IRLF 


BIWLING  BA 


I  LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OP 

CALIFORNIA 


DOUBLING  BACK 


Doubling  Back 

Autobiography  of  An  Actor 
Serio — Comical 


By  EDWARDS  HOAG  MEADE 


Containing 

Plain  Anecdotes  of  The  Stage 

How  I  Became  an  Actor  and  the  Result 

Stories  While  Barnstorming 

and 

Some  Original  Verse 

Illustrated 
Bij  VADE  GARTON 


Price  One  Dollar 


COPYRIGHT 
NINETEEN  HUNDRED  AND  SIXTEEN 

BY 

EDWARDS  HOAG  MEADE 


HAMMOND  PRESS 

W.  B.  CONKEY  COMPANY 

CHICAGO 


Sincerely  yours, 

ED.  MEADE 


PREFACE  AND  DEDICATION 

T  WISH  to  dedicate  the  following  work  to  my  many 
A  friends  who  will  be  my  chief  purchasers,  memories  of 
whom  have  formed  my  chief  inspiration  in  this,  my  first 
attempt  to  appear  before  them  in  other  capacity  than  that 
of  the  show  business.  In  addition  to  the  friends  of  my 
childhood  and  youth  there  are  several  thousand  people 
throughout  the  rural  districts  of  the  middle  west  and  Pacific 
west  whom  I  regard  as  my  friends,  because  they  were  kind 
enough  at  some  time  to  attend  my  show  or  some  show  of 
which  I  was  a  member,  and  to  whom  I  may  have  afforded 
a  good  laugh  or  two — God's  way  of  rejuvenating  the  aged 
and  redeeming  the  victims  of  the  demon  worry. 

Before  beginning  the  sequential  tale  told  in  "Doubling 
Back,"  I  must  tell  my  readers  a  few  things  about  myself 
which  will  at  the  same  time  explain  wljy  I  now  meet  my 
friends  in  print  instead  of  in  the  good  old  show  way  of 
earlier  years.  In  August,  1912,  while  taking  my  company 
from  California  to  keep  several  engagements  in  Oregon,  as 
had  long  been  our  custom  in  the  early  autumn,  I  experi- 
enced a  profound  stroke  of  paralysis.  I  was  taken  to 
Fabiola  hospital  in  Oakland,  and  for  twenty-one  days  I 
did  not  move  nor  speak,  and  for  thirty-one  days  I  did  not 
eat  a  mouthful  of  food.  From  there  I  was  transferred  to 
Dr.  Anthony's  private  residence  in  San  Francisco,  and 
after  weeks  of  the  best  medical  treatment  known  to  science, 
I  hobbled  out  on  both  legs,  but  I  had  not  and  never  have 

9 

123 


10  PEEFACE  AND  DEDICATION 

since  had  the  complete  use  of  my  right  side.  My  right 
shoulder,  arm,  hand  and  leg  are  so  much  dead  weight  upon 
the  living  portion  of  my  body  and  mind. 

Through  a  friend  I  read  the  book  "Brain  and  Per- 
sonality," by  W.  Hanna  Thomson.  The  teaching  of  this 
book,  which  is  thoroughly  scientific,  is  to  the  effect  that 
if  a  person  would  use  his  left  hand  more  he  would  develop 
the  dormant  cells  on  the  right  side  of  his  brain  and  thus 
increase  or  even  double  his  thinking  capacity.  Having 
sustained  the  stroke  of  paralysis  with  full  mental  powers, 
but  with  one-half  of  my  body  dead,  I,  on  Thanksgiving 
day,  1912,  determined  that  I  would  learn  to  write  with  my 
left  hand  and  thus  develop  the  heretofore  but  little  used 
side  of  my  brain.  For  two  years  I  read  much  and  prac- 
ticed writing  with  my  left  hand.  The  constant  use  of  my 
left  hand  and  the  concentration  of  my  thoughts  on  one 
object,  namely  writing,  led  me  to  write  this  story  of  my 
life.  In  doing  this  I  have  had  in  mind  two  objects,  first 
to  find  daily  renewed  interest  in  life  by  enjoying  my 
friends,  through  memory,  and  second,  to  again  draw  the 
mind  of  others  from  their  daily  cares  by  legitimate  pleas- 
ure— not,  to  be  sure,  by  presenting  to  them  a  good  show, 
but  by  providing  them  with  a  book  as  good  in  its  way  as 
was  my  show  in  its  way. 

I  write  this  book  with  my  left  hand,  never  so  used  until 
I  was  past  fifty  years  old,  and  transcribed  it  to  the  type- 
writer with  only  one  finger  of  my  left  hand. 

I  regret  that  I  cannot  find  words  to  express  the  grati- 
tude I  feel  towards  relatives,  friends  and  acquaintances 
for  all  the  good  things  I  have  received  at  their  hands. 


PREFACE  AND  DEDICATION  11 

I  also  wish  to  thank  every  purchaser  of  a  ticket  to  my 
t.  r"  or  a  "six  bitter,"  whether 

5  in  mountain  town,  valley  town,  prairie  town  or  city, 
and  i  include  all  coiu^Lmentar^ -claiming  friends  and  re- 
cipients of  free  tickets. 

I  thank  God  for  His  mercy  and  I  truthfully  say  that 
I  am  now,  as  ever,  a  peaceful,  happy,  contented,  jolly  and 
good-natured  "Meadie  Old  Boy."  That  was  my  sobriquet. 
Alba  Heywood,  with  whom  I  had  my  start  in  the  show 
business,  never  called  me  anything  but  "Meadie,"  when  I 
started  in  the  show  business  as  a  property  man  with  him — 
but  (I'll  tell  you  that  later). 

Memories — "they  abound  in  delightful  faults" — but  I 
know  my  friends  will  be  lenient,  and  if  a  stranger  critic 
should  read  them,  remember  that  my  right-handed  brain 
is  over  fifty  years  old  and  has  never  been  thoroughly 
"broke  in." 


MEMORY'S  DOUBLING  BACK 

In  doubling  back  along  life's  trail,  noting  the  landmarks  bold, 
Fll  see  some  things  I'll  not  dig  out,  they  are  better  left  untold, 
So  I'll  forget  the  bitter  scenes  and  pass  them  by,  full  sail, 
And  while  my  memory's  doubling  back  I'll  write  a  jolly  tale. 
This  trail  of  over  fifty  years,  not  made  entire  of  smiles; 
I  made  the  grades  with  perfect  ease,  while  I  trudged  the  weary 

miles. 

I  had  some  wrecks,  made  some  mistakes,  but  still  I'm  here  intact, 
To  make  this  repeat  journey,  now  my  memory's  doubling  back. 

Don't  think  by  "perfect  ease"  I  mean  the  trail  was  always  smooth, 
That  I  rolled  along  the  roadway  like  a  marble  in  a  grove; 
Tho  my  trail  was  lined  with  roses,  sharp  thorns  were  hiding 

there; 

There  were  chasms  dark  and  dreary  that  were  rocky  with  despair, 
But  I  bridged  the  chasms  over  with  whatever  I  could  get, 
Oft  some  dangers  only  threatened,  and  at  some  I'm  smiling  yet. 
"Old  Scout"  is  still  upon  the  trail,  though  he  totes  an  empty 

pack, 
Come  share  with  him  the  pleasure  of  his  memory  doubling  back. 

Memory  doubles  back  with  pleasure  all  along  the  trail  of  life; 
And  I  live  in  glorious  visions  all  the  hours  of  joy  and  strife, 
I'll  be  telling  things  that  happened  on  a  trail  where  .all  the  tears 
Fell  so  very  soft  and  gentle  that  they  never  clogged  the  gears. 
'Tis  a  pleasure  to  be  viewing  all  the  roses,  thorns  and  smiles 
On  a  trail  that  surely  covers  over  a  half  a  million  miles. 
But  my  mind  is  prone  to  wander  to  and  fro  along  the  track. 
All  who  read  will  please  remember— my  memory's  doubling  back. 

13 


14  DOUBLING    BACK 


MY  ANCESTRY  AND  BIRTH 

Some  of  my  ancestors  came  to  this  country  about  the 
time  of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers ;  others  were  here  when  Colum- 
bus discovered  America.  My  mother  was  Mary  Elizabeth 
Hoag.  The  Hoags  were  Quakers,  and  I  have  seen  their 
names  enrolled  upon  the  records  in  the  old  meeting  house 
on  Mizzen  Top  mountain,  in  Duchess  County,  New  York. 
My  great  grandfathers  were  all  Revolutionary  heroes  and 
one  of  them  was  a  member  of  "The  Boston  Tea  Party." 
I  saw  his  grave  at  Cope's  Hill  Cemetery,  Boston.  My 
father  was  James  Morris  Meade.  The  Meades  of  Virginia 
were  descendants  of  Pocahontas,  and  many  of  us  show  a 
trace  of  the  blood  down  to  this  generation.  I  used  to 
think  that  my  father  was  joking  whenever  he  mentioned 
it,  but  as  I  grew  older  I  saw  that  he  was  proud  of  the 
fact  that  he  descended  from  Chief  Powhatan  and  his 
daughter,  Pocahontas. 

The  Edwards  part  of  my  name  is  from  Jonathan  Ed- 
wards, a  noted  divine,  who  died  in  1758.  He  preached 
the  doctrines  of  foreordination,  original  sinr  punishment 
after  death,  etc.  When  my  uncle  was  born,  after  whom 
I  was  named,  a  very  old  lady  and  family  friend  wanted 
to  name  him  Jonathan  Edwards  Hoag.  My  grandmother 
did  not  fancy  the  Jonathan  part  of  it,  but  out  of  respect 
for  the  dear  old  lady  they  compromised  and  named  him 
Edwards  Hoag.  Therefore  I  was  christened  when  I  was 
born,  Edwards  Hoag  Meade. 

It  has  always  been  a  question  as  to  whether  I  was  born 
on  the  31st  of  July  or  the  first  day  of  August.  It  was 


DOUBLING    BACK  15 

midnight  and  when  the  doctor  looked  at  his  watch  it  was 
11:47  or  thirteen  minutes  to  twelve.  Grandfather's  six- 
foot  clock  in  the  kitchen  said  12:13.  The  neighbors  and 
relatives  got  into  an  argument  with  the  doctor  and  mother 
settled  the  dispute  by  saying  that  she  would  like  my  birth- 
day to  be  August  1st.  The  doctor  examined  his  watch  and 
discovered  that  it  had  stopped  and  the  event  was  cele- 
brated. I  took  milk  and  the  guests  partook  of  tea,  coffee 
and  sandwiches.  I  think  they  must  have  had  sandwiches 
because  the  event  happened  at  Sandwich,  Dekalb  County, 
Illinois,  1863.  I  weighed  eight  pounds. 


CHILDHOOD 

About  the  first  thing  that  I  can  remember  is  that  I 
crawled  under  the  gate  and  across  the  road  to  the  school- 
house,  which  I  entered  on  hands  and  knees  and  began  to 
cry  for  my  sister.  The  pupils  and  the  teacher  were  con- 
vulsed with  laughter  and  the  kind-hearted  teacher  told 
Nellie  to  take  me  home. 

My  father  was  in  the  war  at  the  time  of  my  birth,  127th 
Regiment,  Company  F,  Illinois  Volunteers.  He  got  a  fur- 
lough to  come  home  and  see  his  " bouncing  soldier  boy," 
as  he  always  called  me.  But  I  cannot  remember  him  until 
long  after  the  war  had  closed  when  he  returned  from  the 
Physio-medical  college,  Cincinnati,  Ohio,  with  a  trunk  full 
of  toys.  He  also  brought  several  big  boxes  of  big  books 
full  of  pictures  of  skeletons  and  bones.  These  were  a 
source  of  great  interest  to  me. 


16 


DOUBLING    BACK 


Soon  after  this  we  moved  from  Sandwich  to  the  little 
village  of  Lee  Center  and  father  began  the  practice  of 
medicine.  I  recall  but  a  few  things  that  happened  at  this 
time,  but  among  them  was  the  eclipse  of  the  sun  when 
chickens  went  to  roost  and  cows  came  home  to  be  milked 
at  midday.  I  heard  people  say  the  end  of  the  world  had 
come  and  I  thought  we  were  in  for  a  big  celebration.  I 
also-  remember  that  about  this  time  father  took  me  to 
Amboy  and  introduced  me  to  General  Grant,  whom  he 
said  was  going  to  be  president  of  the  United  States. 
Father  also  told  me  a  great  war  was  over  and  a  grand 
and  glorious  nation  had  been  saved  and  that  thousands 
of  men  had  been  killed  and  millions  of  dollars  worth  of 
property  had  been  destroyed.  These  things  made  but  little 

impression  on  my  childish 
mind.  I  was  much  more  in- 
terested in  throwing  coal  at 
old  Brindle,  the  cow,  in  her 
stall,  and  stealing  brandied 
cherries  from  the  glass  fruit 
jar  that  was  setting  upon 
the  office  table.  There  and 
then  my  father  gave  me  a 
good  spanking  and  told  me 
something  about  the  evils  of 
intemperance.  He  also  be- 
gan to  teach  me  my  A,  B, 
C's.  When  he  planted  the 
garden  he  sowed  lettuce  and 
radish  seeds  in  the  form  of 


DRD'S  SOLDIER   BQYHX63 


NELLIE— EDDIE 


DOUBLING    BACK  17 

letters  that  spelled  my  name.  When  the  little  green 
sprouts  began  to  poke  their  noses  through  the  soil  we  could 
spell  EDDIE,  NELLIE,  growing  right  out  of  the 
ground.  Father  explained  that  God  had  made  everything 
that  we  could  see— the  plants,  the  stars  and  every  living 
thing.  It  was  a  wonderful  mystery  to  my  childish  mind 
and  I  have  never  forgotten  the  lesson.  It  is 


STILL  A  MYSTERY 

The  ocean,  animals  and  streams, 

Icebergs,  mountains,  tropic; 
In  fact  the  entire  universe 

Is  all  so  kaleidoscopic. 
The  whole  is  only  made  of  clay, 

Man,  earth,  tree,  bird  and  sea, 
Yet  all  the  planets  and  the  soul 

Are  one  great  mystery. 

Who  can  tell  me  how  the  bee 

Knows  how  to  sip  the  honey 
From  the  rose,  and  who  made  the  rose? 

Now  doesn't  it  all  seem  funny? 
Great  elephants,  tiny  insects, 

Of  natural  history, 
And  how  they  walk,  talk,  think  and  eat 

Is  still  a  mystery. 

What  gives  color  to  the  flowers, 
By  the  million  everywhere? 


18  DOUBLING    BACK 

What  makes  plumage  for  the  birds 

Of  various  colors  rare? 
What  makes  all  the  rubies,  diamonds, 

Pearls  and  gold  so  secretly? 
We  view  the  clay,  but  what  creates 

Is  still  a  mystery. 

I  now  began  to  attend  the  public  schools  and  had  an 
awful  time  to  learn  to  spell  those  big  words,  " could," 
" would"  and  " should,"  and  it  was  a  long  time  before  I 
grasped  their  meaning.  Father  said:  "Come  right 
straight  home  just  as  soon  as  school  is  out,"  and  I  prom- 
ised him  that  I  would,  but  there  were  many  times  that  I 
lingered  by  the  way  just  to  show  him  that  I  could.  Then 
talk  to  me  and  whip  me  he  would.  I  could  not  believe 
he  would  until  I  had  received  the  second  thrashing  or  that 
he  should  until  years  later,  and  I  learned  the  meaning  of 
those  words  always  to  obey  my  father  and  mother. 

In  1869  father  took  me  to  a  circus  "just  to  see  the 
animals,"  but  we  saw  the  parade,  the  tumblers,  the  riders 
and  the  elephants,  also  snake  charmers,  fakers,  speelers 
and  contortionists.  The  next  day  I  thought  that  I  would 
try  to  do  some  of  their  tricks  and  managed  to  get  both 
of  my  feet  over  my  head;  then  I  fell  over  and  could  not 
get  them  back.  After  lying  on  the  barn  floor  for  an  hour 
and  a  half  my  mother  found  me  in  my  helpless  condition. 
I  think  that  another  half  hour  would  have  finished  me.  How- 
ever I  loosened  all  the  bones  and  muscles  so  that  forever 
afterward  I  could  put  both  feet  back  of  my  head  and  get 
them  in  place  again  with  ease.  It  was  this  act  which 


DOUBLING    BACK  19 

caused  me  to  have  a  terrible  headache  about  this  time.  I 
suffered  greatly  for  several  days  and  was  sick  for  several 
weeks.  Upon  my  recovery  it  was  discovered  that  my  hair 
was  turning  white  at  the  age  of  six.  This  bit  of  boyhood 
fun  may  also  be  the  cause  of  my  recent  stroke  of  paralysis. 
In  1870  my  parents  moved  to  Piano,  Kendall  County, 
Illinois.  This  is  the  town  where  William  Deering,  the 
famous  harvesting  machine  man,  began  the  manufacture 
of  self  binders  and  where  I  found  the  largest  piece  of  cash 
that  I  had  ever  seen.  It  was  nicely  folded  up  in  an  old 
leather  purse  and  proved  to  be  a  great  big  brand  new 
greenback,  one  dollar  bill.  I  ran  to  the  store  as  fast  as 
my  little  legs  would  carry  me  and  invested  it  all.  I  bought 
forty  sticks  of  gum,  some  molasses  taffy,  cookies,  peanuts, 
jaw-breakers  and  fishhooks.  I  went  to  school  at  1  o'clock 
with  the  entire  load  and  proceeded  to  give  it  away  to  all 
kinds  of  urchins.  There  were  Italians,  Swedes,  Bohemians, 
Dutch,  Dagoes,  Americans  and  colored  kids.  School  was 
called  at  1 :30  p.  m.,  and  I  was  called  to  the  front  at  about 
1 :40.  The  teacher  asked  me  if  I  gave  the  children  all  of 
that  truck  and  I  answered  bravely  and  proudly  that  I  was 
the  boy,  whereupon  the  teacher  gave  me  a  chalk  box  and 
told  me  to  collect  all  the  gum  and  other  truck  and  bring 
it  to  her.  I  did  so;  then  she  told  me  to  put  all  that  they 
had  been  chewing  into  one  chunk.  I  again  obeyed  her; 
then  she  placed  a  fool's  cap  upon  my  head,  set  me  on  a 
high  stool  beside  her,  and  forced  me  to  sit  there  all  the 
afternoon  and  chew  upon  that  great  big  wad  of  conglom- 
erated gum.  Not  only  this,  but  she  insisted  that  I  smile 
and  look  happy  while  doing  this,  which  was  really  my 


20 


DOUBLING    BACK 


first  performance  in  public.  When  I  related  the  whole 
story  to  my  father  he  was  so  enraged  that  he  went  on  the 
war  path  and,  being  a  descendant  of  Big  Chief  Powhatan, 
he  proceeded  to  get  that  teacher's  scalp.  I  have  never 
really  enjoyed  chewing  a  piece  of  gum  since. 

Father  had  a  drug  store  in  Piano  and  practiced  medi- 
cine. After  the  great  fire  in  Chicago,  in  1871,  he  took  in 
a  partner  and  opened  a  drug  store  on  North  Clark  street 
in  the  big  city.  This  occasioned  my  first  visit  to  the  great 
railroad  center  of  the  United  States.  It  was  a  wonderful 
sight  to  me.  Buildings  of  all  kinds  were  being  constructed, 
temporarily  and  otherwise,  and  I  have  never  seen  such 
a  busy  crowd  of  people  since  that  time.  I  remained  in 
Chicago  several  weeks  during  that  summer's  vacation  from 

school.  Within  a  few 
months  father's  partner 
proved  to  be  a  rascal  and  in 
some  manner  succeded  in 
getting  the  firm  in  a  mix-up. 
They  dissolved  partnership 
and  father  went  to  the  Cliff 
copper  mine,  at  the  end  of 
Keweenaw  Point,  almost  in 
the  center  of  Lake  Superior, 
and  became  the  mining 
company 's  physician,  sur- 
geon and  apothecary,  while 
my  mother,  two  sisters,  a 
baby  brother  and  I  went 
to  Sandwich,  my  birth- 

SMILE- EDDIE- SMILE' 


DOUBLING    BACK  21 

place,  five  miles  distant  from  Piano.  This  arrange- 
ment pleased  me  very  much  for  nearly  all  my  rela- 
tives were  there — Grandmother  Hoag  and  Aunt  Char- 
lotte, Cousin  Meades,  the  Delanos  and  dear  Cousin 
Curtis,  who  was  my  favorite,  and  with  whom  I  played 
horse,  stole  grandma's  cookies  and  got  fishhooks  caught 
in  my  hand. 

That  fall,  1872,  my  little  sister  Gertrude  was  taken 
suddenly  ill  and  died.  My  father  started  from  the  old 
Clark  mine  at  Copper  Harbor,  Michigan,  but  the  travel- 
ing facilities  at  that  time  of  the  year  were  so  bad  that  he 
did  not  arrive  until  after  the  funeral.  After  making  us 
as  comfortable  as  possible,  with  plenty  of  coal  and  pro- 
visions for  the  winter,  he  returned  to  the  mine  on  the  shore 
of  Lake  Superior,  at  the  end  of  the  "ThuuJb." 


I  DISCOVER  THE  NORTH  POLE 

Charlotte  Hoag  (Aunt  Sholl),  youngest  daughter  of 
Daniel  Hoag,  the  pioneer,  scout,  guide  and  Indian  fighter 
of  California  from  '49  to  '68,  lived  with  us  until  I  was 
nearly  ten  years  old.  She  was  like  a  mother  to  me,  but 
she  married  and  went  to  Prairie  du  Chien,  "Wisconsin,  at 
about  this  time  to  live.  On  Saint  Patrick's  day,  1873, 
mother,  sister  Nellie  and  baby  brother  Hubert  and  I  left 
my  native  town  and  started  for  the  North  Pole.  At  least 
that  is  what  I  thought.  I  had  been  studying  geography 
and  mother  had  often  pointed  to  the  little  thumb  of  land 
that  extends  out  toward  the  center  of  Lake  Superior  and 


22  DOUBLING    BACK 

told  me  that  my  father  was  away  up  there  at  the  end  of 
it  and  it  seemed  as  though  it  was  the  end  of  the  earth. 

We  saw  the  great  Saint  Patrick's  Day  parade  in  Chi- 
cago and  left  that  city  via  the  Chicago  &  Northwestern 
B.  B.  at  9  p.  m.,  on  the  17th  of  March,  1873,  for  the  Cliff 
mine,  Keweenaw  County,  upper  peninsula  of  the  state 
of  Michigan.  We  traveled  straight  north  through  the 
state  of  Wisconsin.  When  he  reached  Escanaba,  Michigan, 
our  train  was  blocked  in  a  snowdrift.  When  we  left 
Illinois  the  wild  flowers  were  in  bloom  and  the  farmers 
were  plowing. 

Leaving  Escanaba  we  kept  going  north.  The  railroad 
across  the  peninsula  had  just  been  completed  a  few  months 
previous  and  the  locomotives  were  all  of  the  old-fashioned 
wood  burning  type,  so  they  had  to  stop  every  few  miles 
to  "wood  up,"  while  the  section  hands  shoveled  frozen 
snow  off  the  track.  We  were  seven  days  making  the  jour- 
ney, which  is  now  easily  made  In  thirty-six  hours.  Father 
came  from  the  end  of  the  thumb,  or  peninsula,  to  a  place 
called  LaAnse  with  a  team  of  horses  and  a  big  bobsleigh 
to  meet  us.  LaAnse  was  the  end  of  the  railroad,  on  the 
main  land  across  Keweenaw  Bay,  to  the  southeast  of  the 
thumb,  over  one  hundred  miles  by  wagon  road.  This  dis- 
tance was  made  shorter  in  the  winter  when  freight  and 
stage  teams  crossed  on  the  ice  to  Portage  lake  entry,  a 
small  lake  that  penetrated  the  base  of  the  thumb. 

We  filled  the  big  box  of  the  bobsleigh  with  robes  and 
hot  stones  and  started  out  upon  the  ice.  One  thing  I  dis- 
tinctly remember  is  that  we  passed  little  canvas  wind 
shelters  with  an  Indian  sitting  on  a  box  in  each  of  them, 


DOUBLING    BACK 


23 


catching  fish  through  a  hole  in  the  ice.  I  took  these 
Indians  to  be  Esquimos  and  could  imagine  that  I  was 
slowly  freezing  to  death.  I  was  a  happy  boy  when  we 
arrived  at  the  old  log  half-way  house,  which  had  a  great 
big  box  stove  that  held  a  dozen  sticks  of  four  foot  wood 
at  a  time,  and  remained  red  hot  nearly  all  winter.  It  was 
a  great  relief  to  know  that  we  were  no  longer  riding  on 
ice,  but  were  safe  on  the  land  once  more,  although  it  was 
covered  with  six  feet  of  snow.  "We  ate  a  steaming  hot 
dinner,  warmed  our  toes,  piled  into  a  sleigh  again  and  rode 
twenty-five  miles  more  through  the  forests  and  over  the 
snow  to  Houghton.  Houghton  is  the  county  seat  of 
Houghton  County,  is  situated  at  the  base  of  the  thumb 
of  land  and  in  the  great 
Michigan  copper  belt.  "We 
arrived  at  our  destination 
on  the  next  night  at  the 
Ciff  mine,  Keweenaw  Coun- 
ty, Michigan,  almost  in  the 
very  middle  of  Lake  Su- 
perior, and  I  actually 
thought  that  I  was  at  the 
North  Pole.  If  I  had  a 
good  voice  I  would  go  on 
the  lecture  platform  and 
convince  the  public  that  it 
was  not  Dr.  Cook  or  Lieu- 
tenant Perry  that  discov- 
ered the  Pole.  It  was 

flHEHO  OF  COOK  OND  PERRY- 


24  DOUBLING    BACK 

Eddie  Meade  at  the  age  of  ten  years,  and  if  I  was 
there  today  (August)  I  could  show  you  the  iceberg  between 
the  rocks  where  I  planted  the  American  flag  on  the  Fourth 
day  of  July,  1873. 


LITTLE  BIG  THUMB 
(To  Fred  Nichols,  Hoton,  Mich.) 

I'll  not  double  back  to  childhood, 

After  memories  ga-lore; 
They  might  not  prove  of  interest, 

Though  I  have  a  thousand  more; 
But  I  must  be  telling  something 

'Bout  that  little  strip  of  land, 
That  is  shaped  just  like  your  left  thumb 

When  you  open  out  your  hand. 
It's  surrounded  with  the  water 

Of  that  great  fresh  water  lake — 
Superior— and  that's  the  name 

Upper  Michigan  should  take. 
"Little  Big  Thumb-him-heap-rich-um," 

Quoth  the  tribe  of  Chippewa, 
"Silver— copper— birch  bark— skookum," 

Grunts  the  big  chief  Keweenaw. 

The  summer  days  are  charming, 
But  the  winter's  mighty  cold. 

Prom  Portage  Lake  to  Lac  la  Belle, 
There  are  mines  of  wealth  untold; 

The  lOsceola,  Tamarack, 
Pewaubic,  Copper  Falls, 


DOUBLING    BACK  25 

Quiney,  Calumet  and  Hecla, 

Among  high  cliffs  and  buried  walls. 
These  are  the  richest  copper  mines 

There  are  upon  the  earth. 
No  one  knows  how  far  they  go, 

So  no  one  knows  their  worth. 
There  is  one  thing  Pve  often  heard, 

Which  I'm  going  to  tell  you  now: 
How  the  great  mine  was  discovered 

By  Agassiz  and  a  sow. 

It  so  happened  the  professor 

And  some  students  just  from  Yale, 
Who  were  studying  the  geology 

Of  the  thumb,  from  hand  to  nail. 
One  morning  at  the  Halfway  house, 

Where  they  boarded  for  a  while, 
Wanted  roast  pork  for  their  dinner— 

You  should  have  seen  that  landlord  smile, 
He  said,  "There  are  pigs  in  plenty 

On  that  side  hill  among  the  rocks, 
But  to  catch  'em  that's  the  trouble, 

They're  as  cunning  as  a  fox." 
The  boys  said  they  would  catch  'em 

Just  as  sure  as  sure  could  be; 
So  they  started  out  to  get  em, 

In  the  greatest  sort  of  glee. 
Agassiz  joined  in  with  them, 

For  he  liked  to  see  the  fun, 
To  say  nothing  'bout  the  dinner, 

When  the  noble  work  was  done. 
The  first  thing  the  professor  saw 

Was  an  old  sow— he  tried  to  stop  herj 


26  DOUBLING    BACK 

She  upset  him— right  then— he  found 

The  first  big  chunk  of  copper. 
Thus  Calumet  and  Hekla,  richest  mine  of  all, 
Was  discovered  by  Agassiz  when  he  got  that  awful  fall. 


BACK  TO  ILLINOIS 

Mother's  health  was  not  very  good  in  a  country  where 
there  were  six  feet  of  snow  for  six  months  in  the  year, 
and  so,  on  the  first  of  September,  1876,  we  sailed  on  the 
steamer  J.  L.  Hurd  for  Chicago.  The  steamer  arrived 
safely  in  Chicago  via  Marquette,  the  pictured  rocks, 
through  the  Sault  Ste  Marie  River  and  canal  across  the 
head  of  Lake  Huron,  through  the  Strait  of  Mackinac, 
along  the  west  shore  of  Lake  Michigan  and  up  the  dirty 
old  Chicago  River  to  Canal  street  dock. 

Chicago  was  now  a  city  of  about  five  hundred  thou- 
sand inhabitants  and  there  were  still  many  piles  of  ruins 
that  remained  from  the  great  fire. 

I  attended  the  Ogden  school  and  applied  myself  dili- 
gently. I  visited  Sandwich  before  school  commenced,  dur- 
ing the  Christmas  holidays,  and  again  in  the  spring  before 
we  sailed  back  to  the  mining  country  and  the  "  Little  Big 
Thumb."  While  in  Chicago  I  met  with  very  few  boyhood 
adventures,  but  saw  the  new  president,  Rutherford  B. 
Hayes,  and  the  defeated  candidate,  Samuel  J.  Tilden.  I 
often  went  skating  in  Lincoln  Park,  read  Oliver  Optic's 
boy  stories,  Rolla's  Travels  and  a  few  of  "Frank  Merri- 
welTs"  stories.  In  May,  when  navigation  on  the  great 
lakes  opened,  we  sailed  on  a  steamer  for  Hancock,  Michi- 


DOUBLING    BACK  27 

gan,  a  town  situated  on  the  north  side  of  Portage  Lake, 
opposite  Houghton.  While  enroute  upon  the  steamer  I 
had  the  pleasure  of  shaking  hands  with  gallant  General 
Phil  Sheridan,  who  was  going  out  to  Montana,  via  Duluth, 
to  get  some  of  the  Indians  that  took  part  in  the  battle  of 
" Little  Big  Horn."  We  arrived  safely  in  Hancock.  I 
lived  there  for  years  and  met  with  many  of  the  experi- 
ences that  fall  to  the  lot  of  a  boy  between  the  age  of 
fourteen  and  eighteen.  Among  these  was  one  very  provi- 
dential escape,  which  I  will  tell  about  in  another  install- 
ment. 


"FOUR  YEARS  MORE"  IN  COPPERDOM 

Hancock,  in  1877,  was  a  town  of  about  twenty-five  hun- 
dred inhabitants.  The  Cliff  mine  had  closed  down.  Father 
had  opened  an  office  in  Hancock  to  practice  medicine.  The 
town  is  twenty-five  miles  south  of  the  Old  Cliff  mine  and 
is  supported  by  the  numerous  mines  that  are  situated 
along  the  top  of  Quincy  Hill.  This  hill,  about  a  mile  high, 
extends  along  the  shore  of  the  lake  to  the  east  and  west 
for  several  miles.  At  that  time  there  were  several  stamp 
mills  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  with  a  tramways,  consisting 
of  a  double  track.  While  two  ore  cars  went  down  the  hill 
at  the  end  of  a  cable  they  would  draw  two  empty  ones  up 
to  the  rock  house  at  the  brow  of  the  same  hill.  Here  the 
ore  was  brought  from  the  mines  with  a  mule,  horse,  man 
or  steam  engine.  The  mills  were  gradually  filling  up  the 
channel  of  the  narrow  lake.  Since  those  days  Uncle  Sam 
has  forced  the  mining  companies  to  move  their  mills  to 


28  DOUBLING    BACK 

the  shores  of  Lake  Superior.  There  are  copper  smelters 
here  where  native  copper  is  melted  and  cast  into  ingots, 
also  copper  works  where  they  manufacture  everything  from 
a  copper  tack  to  a  copper  head. 

The  regular  school  term  was  about  to  close  for  the 
summer  vacation  when  we  got  to  Hancock,  so  father  told 
us  that  we  need  not  go  to  school  until  fall.  That  pleased 
me  immensely.  I  became  a  telegraph  messenger  boy  and 
was  the  only  one  in  the  town.  There  was  no  such  thing 
as  a  bicycle  at  that  time.  I  delivered  messages  to  all  the 
mines  and  rode  up  and  down  the  different  tramways. 
Sometimes  the  cars  would  become  uncoupled,  the  cable 
would  break  or  two  cars  would  jump  the  track.  It  was 
very  dangerous  to  be  riding  at  that  time,  and  people  were 
often  hurt  and  even  killed,  but  I  escaped,  although  I  often 
saw  the  cars  run  away  and  watched  them  go  crashing 
through  the  mills  out  into  the  lake.  I  learned  telegraphy 
in  my  new  job,  but  quit  in  order  to  attend  the  public 
schools  in  September.  I  became  very  much  interested  in 
the  school  at  Hancock  and  didn't  even  play  hookey. 
Samuel  E.  Whitney,  the  big  chief  and  school  superin- 
tendent, had  all  the  kids  "buffaloed"  with  his  big  round 
eyes.  He  could  also  make  a  kid  howl.  When  he  would 
shut  one  eye  and  peel  the  other  he  looked  just  like  a  wise 
old  owl.  There  was  one  pupil  that  I  will  never  forget. 
He  is  now  a  famous  physician,  Dr.  Anthony,  in  San  Fran- 
cisco. Samuel  never  called  a  pupil  by  his  name  and  every 
pupil  was  numbered  and  this  particular  pupil  was  No.  1 
while  I  was  No.  6.  No.  1  was  a  kind  of  a  ringleader  and 
under  Samuel 's  predecessor  had  kept  the  high  schoolroom 


DOUBLING    BACK 


29 


in  some  sort  of  a  turmoil  all  the  time.  When  Samuel  took 
hold  of  the  reins  it  was  different  and  No.  1  became  the 
best  pupil  in  the  school  and  was  a  shining  example  for  the 
rest  of  us.  Samuel  visited  him  in  San  Francisco  a  few 
years  ago  and  told  the  doctor  that  he  could  never  have 
managed  that  bunch  of  bad  boys  without  him.  The  wise 
old  owl  had  seen  the  ability  pupil  No.  1  possessed,  and  by 
appealing  to  the  boy's  pride  had  cultivated  the  intellect 
until  No.  1,  instead,  of  being  a  ringleader  in  michief, 
became  the  great  example  for  us  all.  Nor  did  he  know 
how  it  was  done  until  more  than  thirty  years  afterward. 


A  CIRCUS  (?) 


During  the  1878  summer 
vacation,  ably  assisted  by 
my  school  chum,  Fred 
Nichols,  I  made  myself  quite 
an  enviable  reputation  as 
the  manager  of  a  circus.  I 
had  seen  Barnum's  Fore- 
paugh's  and  Franklin's  cir- 
cuses in  Illinois,  so  the  boys 
elected  me  manager.  I  now 
had  been  in  Hancock  over  a 
year  and  was  a  member  of 
the  local  Turnverein,  be- 
coming quite  an  athlete.  I 
well  remember  getting  my 
feet  over  my  head  and  I  was 


30  DOUBLING    BACK 

soon  showing  the  turners  that  I  could  do  it.  I  became 
something  of  a  contortionist  and  could  almost  spell  my 
name  in  human  letters  with  my  frame.  If  Eingling 
Brothers'  world's  greatest  shows  had  been  in  existence  in 
those  days  they  would  have  engaged  me  as  a  good  cash 
extortionist. 

We  built  our  tent  out  of  burlap  bags,  old  canvas, 
calico  and  colored  rags.  It  looked  like  a  crazy  quilt  with 
colors  so  rare  that  Barnum's  greatest  show  on  earth  could 
not  compare  with  it.  "We  had  a  stupendous,  glittering 
parade,  the  hot  roasted  peanuts  and  the  red  lemonade  with 
a  concert  afterward.  Tickets  sold  for  one  cent.  Our  boy 
clowns,  fake  elephants  and  freaks  made  the  copper  mining 
town  stare.  We  did  well  and  raised  the  admission  price 
to  five  cents,  nor  did  we  have  to  pay  license  or  commission 
to  a  trust  either.  But  alas!  some  great  big  jealous,  tough 
boys,  burned  our  kaleidoscopic  canvas  and  our  circus  per- 
ished in  the  dust.  I  have  dreamed  of  those  days  many 
times  and  thought  it  was  very  unjust.  But  that  was  noth- 
ing, the  "show  biz"  and  I  have  very  often,  in  the  last  few 
years  "went  busted,"  through  what  seemed  then  unjust 
treatment. 


"SIX  BOYS  DISAPPEAR  MYSTERIOUSLY" 

"Six  boys  disappear  mysteriously."  That  is  what 
might  have  happened  and  that  is  the  way  the  newspapers 
would  probably  have  headed  the  sensational  story  of  our 
disappearance. 


DOUBLING    BACK  31 

Julius  Caesar  Lapp,  youngest  son  of  William  Lapp, 
candle  manufacturer,  undertook  to  initiate  four  other  boys 
and  me  into  the  mysteries  of  underground  copper  mining. 
His  father  had  built  a  candle  factory  at  the  mouth  of  an 
old  prospect  tunnel  that  extended  for  fifteen  hundred  feet 
into  the  Quincy  hill  from  a  little  gulch  on  the  outskirts 
of  the  town  and  used  the  tunnel,  which  was  well  timbered, 
as  a  storehouse  for  the  candles. 

Julius  was  exhibiting  the  kettles  of  grease  and  the 
candle  dipping  contrivances  one  afternoon  when  business 
was  dull  and  there  were  no  men  folks  about  the  plant.  He 
finished  by  showing  us  the  warehouse,  or  mouth  of  the  old 
tunnel,  where  hundreds  of  boxes  of  candles  were  stored 
ready  for  shipment  to  the  different  mines.  1878  was  before 
the  days  of  electric  lights  at  the  mines  and  all  the  miners 
used  candles.  "When  we  saw  the  tunnel  and  the  candles 
we  thought  it  would  be  great  fun  to  explore  the  tunnel. 
Julius  supplied  us  with  plenty  of  candles  and  led  the  way 
around  the  boulders,  over  the  fallen  and  unused  timbers, 
through  slimy  pools  where  the  ice  cold  water  from  over- 
head trickled  through  the  crevices  in  the  rock  or  dripped 
from  the  edges  of  the  massive  timbers  that  supported  the 
tons  and  tons  of  earth  and  rock  above  us.  We  exam- 
ined the  slopes,  drifts  and  passes,  found  some  old  drills 
and  hammers.  We  tied  the  candles  to  our  hats  with 
twine.  Finally  we  came  to  an  old  shaft  that  extended  in 
a  perpendicular  manner  to  the  surface  of  the  earth,  five 
hundred  feet  straight  up.  It  was  just  like  being  at  the 
bottom  of  a  well  and  we  were  almost  afraid  to  look  up. 
Not  one  of  us  had  ever  been  at  the  bottom  of  a  well  and 


32 


DOUBLING    BACK 


when  we  finally  mustered  up  courage  enough  to  look 
upward  we  saw  the  stars.  Our  eyes  were  larger  than 
teacups.  We  uttered  cries  of  astonishment  and  stood 
there  a  long  time  just  star  gazing.  It  was  a  little 
bit  chilly,  too.  Boys  don't  dress  very  warm  in  the 
summer  time  in  Michigan  and  we  had  a  regular  shivering 
bee  five  hundred  feet  underground.  After  a  close  exam- 
ination of  the  crib  work  we  continued  along  the  main 
tunnel  and  came  to  the  end  of  it  about  one  hundred  feet 
from  the  old  shaft.  Then  we  proceeded  to  use  our  ham- 
mer and  drill.  In  about  half  an  hour  we  began  the  return 
journey,  took  one  more  long  look  at  the  stars  and  arrived 
at  the  candle  factory  grimy,  slimy,  wet,  cold  and  dirty. 
"We  cleaned  up  at  the  factory  and  felt  as  though  we  had 

made  a  wonderful  discovery 
and  could  not  keep  from 
talking  about  it,  but  we 
never  mentioned  the  experi- 
ence to  another  person.  The 
next  day  we  made  up  the 
same  party  and  intended  to 
have  another  good  look  at 
the  stars  in  the  daytime  and 
also  work  one  more  shift  at 
the  end  of  the  old  tunnel  be- 
yond the  shaft.  Imagine 
our  horror  when  we  beheld 
the  mass  of  timber  and  rock 
that  blocked  our  way.  The 
shaft  had  caved  in  at  some 

WHflT  MIGHT  HRVE  BEEN 


DOUBLING    BACK  33 

time  soon  after  our  visit  of  the  day  before.  We  did  not 
waste  any  time  in  getting  out  of  that  tunnel  and  we  never 
visited  it  again. 

I  did  not  sleep  well  for  several  nights.  "What  might 
have  been"  our  fate  if  that  shaft  had  caved  in  when  we 
were  at  the  end  of  the  tunnel  using  the  drill  or  at  the 
time  we  were  gazing  up  at  the  stars!  No  one  but  Him 
that  knows  all  things  could  ever  have  told  where  those 
six  boys  had  disappeared  to  so  mysteriously. 


LAST  WHIPPING 

I  got  along  very  nicely  in  the  high  school  during  the 
term  of  1878-79.  Samuel  nailed  a  few  facts  into  my  brain 
which  I  managed  to  hang  on  to.  Along  about  that  time 
I  took  my  first  lesson  in  love-making.  In  fact,  I  hugged 
and  kissed  my  first  sweetheart  just  on  one  side.  I  talked 
with  her,  walked  with  her  and  wrote  a  billet-doux  every 
day. 

Among  my  father's  most  stringent  laws  were  rules 
that  I  report  at  home  immediately  after  school,  never  be 
out  after  9  o'clock  without  his  consent,  and  always  come 
straight  home  after  service  on  the  Sabbath  evening.  But 
my  sweetheart  got  me  all  mixed  up.  No  matter  how  hard 
I  tried,  father's  laws  were  disobeyed.  For  Jolly  Belle  I 
would  have  gladly  laid  me  down  and  died. 

Belle  Moralee,  handsome,  tall, 
With  a  waist  so  slim  and  small, 
To  me  she  looked  the  best  of  all, 
Jolly,  sweet  and  smart. 


34  DOUBLING    BACK 

She  had  such  a  lovely  smile 
And  she  wore  it  all  the  while, 
No  wonder  that  it  did  beguile 
My  boyish  heart. 

Oh,  she  dressed  so  prim  and  neat, 
With  such  dainty  little  feet, 
She  was  a  beauty  hard  to  beat, 
Dressed  all  in  pink. 

Her  eyes  were  bluest  blue, 
She  could  flirt  some  with  'em,  too, 
When  she  looked  right  straight  at  you 
And  slyly  winked. 

Oh,  the  joy  that  she  could  bring 
When  she'd  laugh  or  when  she'd  sing, 
It  was  like  the  birds  in  spring 
To  hear  her  voice. 

How  she  loved  a  lively  talk, 
Better  yet  a  nice  long  walk 
With  some  soft  and  spoony  gawk, 
I  was  her  choice. 

My  father  had  read  a  strict  law  that  said,  "Remember, 
son  Eddie,  be  home  at  nine." 

Home  late, 

Shoes  slipping, 
Sneaked  in, 

Toe  tipping, 
Dad  waits, 

Last  whipping — 
I  sure  got  mine. 


DOUBLING    BACK  35 

YOUTH 

I  was  sixteen  years  old  in  the  summer  of  1879,  although 
I  was  only  four  feet  eleven  and  weighed  sixty-nine  pounds 
on  the  Turnverein  scales.  I  was  a  wiry  kid,  as  a  certain 
Houghton  boy  found  out  when  he  ran  up  and  kicked  me 
from  behind.  I  had  been  well  trained  at  the  Turnverein 
and  that  boy  got  all  that  was  coining  to  him.  Afterwards, 
when  I  joined  the  Houghton  Military  company,  Jack  Hiar- 
ris,  whom  I  had  knocked  out  in  less  than  ten  rounds,  was 
a  good  friend.  The  evening  I  joined  and  entered  the 
awkward  squad  Harris  was  the  instructor.  I  had  not  seen 
him  since  the  day  of  the  fight.  He  recognized  me  and 
said:  "You  are  the  little  cuss  that  licked  me  last  winter, 
ain't  you?"  I  answered  rather  modestly,  "Might  be.M 
Then  he  told  me  that  I  was  all  right,  and  when  we  met  in 
Boston,  in  1891,  where  he  was  attending  the  Institution 
of  Technology,  we  celebrated  the  memory  of  that  fight  sev- 
eral times. 

I  began  to  tire  of  algebra,  ancient  history  and  so  forth 
at  the  high  school,  so  when  Mr.  Kibbee,  editor  of  the 
Northwestern  Mining  Journal,  asked  me  how  I  would  like 
to  learn  to  be  a  printer  and  offered  me  a  job  in  his  office 
I  accepted.  On  Christmas,  1879,  he  presented  me  with  a 
copy  of  Gulliver's  Travels  with  the  following  inscription: 

"One  of  the  best  books,  hitting  hard  licks  at  some  of 
the  funniest  follies  of  men,  to  one  of  the  best  boys  that  I 
have  ever  met,  hoping  that  he  will  become  a  successful 
man.  Yours,  F.  P.  Kibbee." 

I  remained  in  the  printing  office  with  Mr.  Kibbee  as 


36  DOUBLING    BACK 

a  printer's  devil  until  the  spring  of  1881.  One  evening 
when  we  were  late  in  getting  out  the  weekly  sheet  the  fore- 
man, being  slightly  intoxicated  and  in  a  great  hurry,  pied 
one  of  the  forms  while  placing  it  on  the  bed  of  the  old 
Hoe  press.  It  made  him  so  angry  that  he  threw  the  fly, 
shooting  stick,  mallet,  planer  and  furniture  at  me  while 
I  was  putting  ink  into  the  fountain  with  a  large  wooden 
spatchel.  I  struck  him  on  the  side  of  the  face  with  ink, 
spatchel  and  a  coal  oil  can  just  to  show  him  that  the  fore- 
man could  not  beat  the  devil.  Mr.  Kibbee  quieted  the 
foreman  by  paying  him  off.  It  happened  to  be  the  editorial 
page.  After  cleaning  up  the  pi,  the  editor  wrote  a  stickful 
of  copy,  explaining  the  mishap  and  the  amount  of  wisdom 
those  editorials  contained.  We  ran  it  right  in  the  center 
of  the  page  and  had  the  Northwestern  Mining  Journal  in 
the  postoffice  before  midnight. 

In  January  of  this  year  my  father  accepted  the  position 
of  physician  and  surgeon  of  the  Quinnesec  Iron  mine,  at 
Quinnesec,  Michigan.  This  was  about  one  hundred  miles 
south  of  the  copper  belt,  at  the  lower  edge  of  the  upper 
peninsula,  which  was  known  as  the  Menominee  Iron  Range, 
near  the  "Wisconsin  State  line.  As  soon  as  navigation 
opened,  home  for  me  was  a  thing  of  the  past.  My  mother, 
sister  and  brother  Hubert  took  the  steamer  for  Chicago 
and  went  to  Sandwich  for  a  visit  among  relatives. 

Previous  to  this  time  I  had  left  the  employment  of  Mr. 
Kibbee  and,  in  company  with  Arthur  Noble,  an  amateur 
editor;  Matthew  Kelly,  a  printer,  and  I  myself  as  general 
assistant  and  devil,  we  purchased  a  second-hand  outfit  and 
started  The  Calumet  News  at  the  Calumet  &  Hecla  mine, 


DOUBLING    BACK  37 

which,  was  situated  twelve  miles  north,  of  Hancock.  In 
1881  The  Calumet  News  was  printed  on  a  Washington 
press  once  a  week  and  we  had  two  hundred  subscribers 
among  the  population  of  about  two  thousand  people. 
Today  it  is  The  Calumet  Daily  Mining  News,  with  a  sub- 
scription list  that  extends  to  all  parts  of  the  world.  It 
also  is  the  authentic  organ  for  all  copper  mining  news  in 
the  Lake  Superior  district. 

Why  didn't  I  stay  with  it?  Well,  partner  Noble  went 
away  on  business  about  the  first  of  July,  Partner  Kelly 
got  on  a  big  spree  and  partner  Meade  got  out  the  paper 
alone,  with  the  assistance  of  a  boy  to  run  the  big  roller 
on  the  Washington.  In  the  meantime  I  telegraphed  to 
partner  Noble,  who  returned  to  Calumet,  and  after  dis- 
solving partnership  with  Kelly  we  sold  out  to  Fred 
Mackinzie.  The  last  that  I  knew  he  was  still  the  owner  and 
was  not  far  from  being  a  millionaire. 

I  got  mighty  homesick  after  I  got  out  of  work.  After 
visiting  a  few  days  at  Hancock  and  Houghton,  including 
my  Houghton  girl  with  whom  I  spent  the  Fourth,  I  joined 
my  father  at  Quinnesec. 

Blithful  Birdie  Mclntire, 

Oh!  my!  how  she  could  skate. 
When  first  I  saw  her  on  the  ice, 

I  thought  Fd  met  my  fate; 
When  the  lake  was  frozen  over 

For  the  first  time,  she  would  say: 
"Oh!  mother,  may  I  go  out  to  skate?" 

"No,  no,  my  ponderous  daughter, 
The  ice  is  too  thin  to   support  your  weight, 

You'd  suffocate  under  the  water." 


38  DOUBLING    BACK 

The  above  verse  was  composed  by  Jo  Hambitzer  (P.  0. 
Clerk,  Hancock,  1878). 

The  change  from  Copperdom  to  Irondom  was  so  great 
that  I  contracted  typhoid  fever,  after  I  had  been  with  my 
father,  at  the  Quinnesec  hotel  a  few  days.  Father  pulled 
me  through  all  right.  One  day  after  I  began  to  walk  about 
some,  father  presented  me  with  a  rifle.  Dr.  "Walker,  a 
dentist  stopping  at  the  hotel,  told  me  to  walk  down  to  the 
Menominee  River,  a  mile  and  a  half  distant,  and  perhaps 
I  would  see  a  deer  or  a  bear.  He  said  that  deer  were 
plentiful  and  that  a  bear  had  been  seen  quite  recently 
right  by  the  river. 

After  dinner  I  took  my  rifle  and  strolled  along  toward 
the  river.  I  was  not  very  strong  and  when  I  arrived  at 
the  top  of  the  steep  embankment  I  saw  the  beautiful 
Menominee  River  for  the  first  time,  as  it  rushed  along 
about  three  hundred  feet  below  the  cliff  upon  which  I  was 
standing.  While  gazing  at  the  beautiful  river,  flowing 
along  swiftly  among  the  gray  rocks,  with  great  pine  trees 
and  tangled  shrubbery,  brush,  vines  and  wild  flowers  grow- 
ing along  its  banks,  I  saw  something  moving  through  the 
brush,  near  an  old  stump,  close  to  the  river.  My  heart 
began  to  beat  very  fast.  I  sneaked  along  carefully  and 
managed  to  get  a  large  tree  between  myself  and  the  object 
sought.  I  rubbered  around  the  tree  with  one  eye  and  a 
long  neck.  Soon  I  saw  a  large  black  bear  sniffing  the 
balmy  air  and  the  wind  was  gently  blowing  right  toward 
him  from  my  position  behind  the  tree.  My  heart  was 
thumping  loud  enough  to  have  been  heard  above  the  roar 
of  the  falls,  which  were  half  a  mile  away.  I  know  that 


DOUBLING    BACK  39 

bear  heard  the  bumping,  because,  just  as  I  took  another 
look,  he  roared,  shook  his  right  ear  and  seemed  to  be  get- 
ting ready  for  battle.  I  tried  to  raise  my  rifle  into  a 
shooting  position,  but  it  was  too  heavy.  I  must  take  a 
shot.  It  would  never  do  to*  go  back  to  the  hotel  and  say 
that  I  saw  a  bear  and  was  afraid  to  take  a  shot  at  him. 
So,  I  wiped  the  perspiration  off  my  face,  raised  the  ham- 
mer of  the  rifle  and  thought :  ' '  That  bear  will  never  know 
from  whence  the  bullet  comes,  and  if  I  wound  him,  and 
he  starts  toward  me,  I'll  hit  him  in  a  vital  spot  and  he'll 
die  before  he  can  ever  get  to  this  tree  which  I  can  climb 
if  necessary." 

As  I  leaned  against  that  tree  and  took  a  careful  aim, 

The  bear  stood  up  with  an  angry  snort, 

And  I  heard  the  clink  of  chain  I 

Oh!  the  clinkity-clink  of  that  iron   chain, 

I  never  heard  a  sweeter  strain; 

I  was  rigid  till  I  heard  it  again— 

Then  the  truth  flashed  through  my  brain, 

Then  I  turned  cold  and  nearly  fainted, 

While  my  eyesight,  it  grew  dim; 

;Twas  a  tame  bear  securely  chained  up 

That  belonged  to  "Limber  Jim." 

It  was  an  awful  sensation  for  a  half  sick  walking- 
typhoid-fever  man  to  experience.  When  I  told  the  doctor 
how  near  I  came  to  killing  ( ?)  that  bear,  he  and  all  the 
guests  at  the  hotel  had  a  very  hearty  laugh  at  my  expense. 
The  bear  was  not  chained  securely  after  all.  It  was  only 
a  few  days  afterward  that  he  escaped  one  night,  visited 


40  DOUBLING    BACK 

a  boarding  house  that  contained  a  lot  of  ladies  ( ?)  near 
the  railroad  track,  two  miles  from  town,  and  made  a  scat- 
tering. 

The  sequel  to  this  little  story  is,  that  a  traveling  man 
purchased  "Limber  Jim's"  bear  and  shipped  him  to  Chi- 
cago, with  an  agreement  that  he  was  to  receive  pay  when 
the  animal  was  delivered  at  Lincoln  Park  and  placed  in 
the  pits,  in  first-class  condition.  It  seems  that  when  they 
fed  the  bear,  upon  his  arrival  at  the  freight  depot,  the 
traveling  man  failed  to  fasten  the  door  of  his  cage  per- 
fectly, so  when  the  wagon  that  was  conveying  the  bear 
turned  the  corner  at  Clark  and  Madison  streets,  Mr.  Bear 
hopped  out  and  climbed  a  telephone  pole.  A  very  large 
crowd  gathered  to  see  the  sight.  Bruin  became  entangled 
among  the  wires,  and  business  in  the  city  was  suspended 
for  the  rest  of  the  day.  The  streets  were  blocked  with 
firemen,  policemen,  engines,  hook  and  ladder  apparatus, 
and  would-be  wild  animal  trappers  and  trainers.  There 
were  pickpockets,  thieves  and  wild-eyed  stock  speculators, 
runaway  horses  and  repair  outfits  of  all  manner  and 
description;  but  none  of  them  could  climb  the  pole  and 
capture  the  bear.  Finally  a  town  marshal  from  some 
western  state  (I  think  he  was  from  Coos  County,  Oregon) 
cleared  a  space  of  about  twenty  feet  at  the  foot  of  the 
telegraph  pole,  and  after  securing  a  long  piece  of  soft 
rope,  he  lassoed  the  bear.  "With  the  assistance  of  a  few 
hundred  bystanders  and  the  police,  he  dragged  him  to  the 
ground  and  into  his  cage,  where  bruin  very  quietly  lay 
down  to  rest,  almost  strangled  to  death.  When  the  streets 
were  cleared  the  traveling  man  could  not  be  found.  The 


DOUBLING    BACK  41 

bear  was  taken  to  Lincoln  Park,  placed  in  a  strong  cage, 
recovered  and  lived  to  amuse  the  children  for  many  years, 
showing  them  how  easily  he  could  catch  and  eat  their 
peanuts. 

From  the  day  I  nearly  shot  the  bear  I  gradually  grew 
stronger.  Father  and  I  became  great  companions.  I  rode 
horseback,  clerked  in  a  drug  store,  shot  at  deer,  drove  a 
delivery  wagon  and  held  a  job  as  "newsy"  and  "peanut 
butcher"  on  the  local. 

In  December  I  went  to  Illinois  to  see  my  mother,  who 
was  visiting  at  Sandwich.  After  a  few  days  I  went  out 
to  visit  my  Uncle  Calvin  Hlough  on  the  farm,  together 
with  my  Cousin  Curtis.  One  day  we  were  amusing  our- 
selves with  an  old  muzzle  loading  shotgun  by  trying  to 
shoot  some  squirrels  that  were  in  the  grove  a  short  dis- 
tance from  the  farmhouse.  I  succeeded  in  getting  a  shot 
at  a  very  large  silver  gray  squirrel.  The  little  fellow  ran 
into  a  hole  that  was  about  twenty  feet  from  the  ground, 
in  an  old  oak  tree  that  was  nearly  ten  feet  in  circumfer- 
ence. Being  determined  to  get  that  squirrel  we  built  a 
scaffold  with  some  rails  which  we  secured  from  a  neighbor- 
ing fence.  Curtis  climbed  to  the  top  of  this  scaffold  and 
with  one  foot  on  the  limb  of  the  tree  and  the  other  braced 
against  the  top  end  of  a  rail,  while  his  left  arm  was  cir- 
cled about  a  limb  that  was  just  above  his  head,  he  called 
for  a  pole  with  which  to  poke  into  the  hole,  where  Mister 
Squirrel  had  entered.  I  handed  him  the  pole,  got  the  shot- 
gun and  stood  close  to  the  tree,  so  that  the  squirrel  could 
not  see  me  when  he  would  run  out  of  the  hole,  a  few  feet 
above  the  one  that  Curtis  was  jabbing  the  pole  into.  He 


42  DOUBLING    BACK 

yelled,  "look  out,"  and  just  as  I  looked  up  the  fence  rail 
that  he  had  been  bracing  himself  and  standing  upon  with 
his  right  foot,  struck  the  gun  that  I  was  holding,  knocking 
it  against  my  face  so  that  the  muzzle  of  the  left  barrel, 
which  I  had  discharged  at  the  squirrel  a  few  moments  be- 
fore, hit  me  plump  upon  the  left  eye.  The  charge  of  powder 
and  shot  that  were  in  the  right-hand  barrel  cleaned  every- 
thing off  the  left  side  of  my  forehead,  leaving  the  bone 
well  exposed  with  several  very  perpendicular  red  lines  in 
the  membrane  of  the  bone,  just  to  show  how  close  the  shot 
could  get  to  my  brain  without  getting  me.  Providence 
had  once  more  interfered  and  it  seemed  that  I  was  being 
preserved  for  some  purpose.  I  had  now  experienced  two 
very  narrow  escapes  from  death.  I  recovered  in  a  few 
weeks,  but  was  blind  in  one  eye  for  several  months.  With 
my  head  in  a  bandage  I  returned  to  Sandwich  where  I 
secured  the  position  of  time  clerk  with  the  Sandwich  En- 
terprise Manufacturing  company.  I  attended  church  reg- 
ularly, fell  head  over  heels  in  love  with  lone  Hummel  and 
thought  I  was  settled  for  life.  Mother,  sister,  my  ten-year- 
old  brother  and  I  had  a  nice  home.  Father  visited  us  from 
Michigan  occasionally.  My  sister  Nellie  married  Edward 
Harvey,  in  1882,  then  mother  went  to  Quinnesec  with 
father.  I  continued  to  love  sweet  lone  and  worked  in  the 
office  of  the  corn  plow  shop  nearly  ten  hours  for  six  days 
in  each  week. 

After  mother  returned  to  Michigan  I  made  my  home 
with  my  sister  and  formed  a  great  attachment  for  her 
husband.  They  left  me  in  1883  and  went  to  California, 
when  their  son  was  six  weeks  old.  They  named  him  Paul. 


DOUBLING    BACK 


43 


He  has  since  became  a  famotts  actor.  I  did  not  see  him 
from  1886,  or  my  dear  sister,  until  1901,  a  period  of  fif- 
teen years.  . 

A  BUMBLING  ACTOR  BEE 

While  I  was  in  high  school  at  Hancock  I  frequently 
took  part  in  entertainments  of  various  kinds  that  were  ar- 
ranged by  the  pupils  and  teachers.  There  must  have  been 
a  bumbling  actor  bee  buzzing  around  even  at  that  time  and 
I  didn't  know  it.  Again  in  1883  it  was  buzzing  and  I 
took  part  in  a  number  of  amateur  theatrical  performances 
with  some  success.  Friends  began  to  say  that  I  was  going 
to  be  an  actor.  I  never  thought  of  being  a  show  man  and 
seeing  nearly  all  the  towns  that  are  found  upon  the 
U.  S.  map,  although  I  did 
eventually. 


A    TWELVE-POUND 
CHERUB 

(The    Birth     of    Paul   Harvey) 
Ed  Harvey  and  I  were  smok- 
ing and  he  was  in  a  mood 
for  joking, 

While  a  bird  above  was  soar- 
ing and  the  people  al- 
ways roaring, 

In   California  as  well  as  in 
New  York. 


fl  12 


CHERUB 


44  DOUBLING    BACK 

He  said  there'd  be  a  brilliant  ending  of  my  job  of  office  tending, 
And  that  I  better  cease  the  blending  of  love  and  money  spending, 
And  help  him  celebrate  the  coming  of  a  stork. 

From  the  sky  that  stork  came  wending  its  way  to  earth  de- 
scending, 

With  a  soul  safely  defending— His  cries  the  air  was  rending; 
I  saw  Paul  after  bathing  that  bleak  September  day. 

"Wire  messages  Ed  was  sending,  friends  and  neighbors  all  were 

lending 
Advice  for  babies  and  their  tending— I  looked  down  with  one 

knee  bending 
At  that  cherub  as  in  blankets  soft  he  lay. 

Twelve  pound  cherub  kept  on  growing,  always  laughing,  cooing, 

crowing, 
At  his  Uncle  Edwards'  clowning,  so  he  never  saw  me  frowning, 

His  mother  said  that  he'd  been  marked  for  me. 
As  to  that  I  am  not  saying,  but  with  parents  he  went  straying 
Off  to  California  playing,  leaving  Uncle  Edwards  praying 

That  once  more  this  cherub  he  would  see. 


THE  GIRL  THAT  I  LOVED  BEST 

I  really  was  in  love  with.  lone  Hummel  and  though 
other  girls,  previous  to  the  year  of  1882  and  up  to  the 
present,  occupied  my  attention,  she  was  the  girl  that  I 
loved  best  and  while  I  was  in  Sandwich,  from  December 
31,  1881,  .until  August  1,  1884,  we  enjoyed  each  other's 
society  at  every  opportunity.  Her  father  used  to  take 
off  his  shoes  at  nine  o'clock  on  the  evenings  that  I  called 


DOUBLING    BACK  45 

and  bang  them  against  the  door  of  his  sleeping  apart- 
ment, as  a  gentle  hint  that  it  was  bedtime.  He  liked  me 
as  a  young  man  but  did  not  want  me  for  a  son-in-law. 
I  finally  became  discouraged  and  lost  my  job.  I  believe 
that  it  was  lone's  spirit  that  prompted  me  to  write  this 
biography.  Just  before  attempting  it  I  dreamed  about 
lone  and  the  next  morning  I  wrote  the  following  verses 
in  memory  of  Sweet  lone,  who  gave  her  life  for  a  life, 
even  as  her  mother  gave  her  life  when  a  child  was  born 
into  the  world. 


SWEET  IONE 

I  awakened  at  midnight  in  the  house  all  alone, 

And  imagined  I  saw  your  spirit,  lone; 

My  mind  pierced  the  darkness — on  a  screen  it  was  thrown, 

A  vision  quite  perfect  of  you,  Sweet  lone. 

I  scarcely  breathed  as  I  whispered  your  name; 

And  the  smile  on  your  lips  was  ever  the  same, 

As  when  I  last  saw  you,  within  your  own  home— 

My  memory  still  loves  you,  my  own  Sweet  lone. 

lone,  my  own,  yes,  my  own,  Sweet  lone; 

My  first  love  was  given  to  you,  Sweet  lone; 

Your  soul  it  hath  gone  unto  that  unknown, 

Yet,  your  spirit  still  lingers  quite  near,  Sweet  lone. 

lOften  in  day  dreams,  when  I  am  alone, 
I  remember  the  hours  spent  with  you,  Sweet  lone; 
The  sleigh  rides,  the  parties,  the  evenings  at  home, 
The  music  and  dancing;  Oh!  why  did  I  roam; 


46  DOUBLING    BACK 

Then  your  marriage— soon  after  your  soul  passed  away— 
A  life  for  a  life  you  gave  on  that  day, 
When  a  child  came  to  place  you  on  motherhood's  throne, 
And  now  you're  God's  message  to  me,  Sweet  lone. 


A  MAN  (?) 

Thus  ended  twenty-one  years  of  moving  about.  I  was 
not  destined  to  remain  long  enough  in  one  spot  to  get 
thoroughly  rooted,  and  yet  I  tried  hard.  My  life  had 
been  spared  several  times  and  I  was  now  old  enough  to 
have  some  sense.  I  had  known  love,  romance  and  some 
adventure,  but  I  was  more  like  a  boy  of  sixteen  than  a 
man,  for  my  experience  had  been  mild  and  innocent. 
I  think  the  spirit  of  my  Quaker  grandfather,  Daniel  Hoag, 
was  directing  my  footsteps  and  in  time  led  me  to  Cali- 
fornia, where  I  was  to  ferret  out  the  cause  of  his  silence 
since  the  year  of  1859,  and  learn  something  of  his  life  and 
death.  At  the  time  I  was  of  age  I  did  not  know  enough 
to  ever  be  grateful  for  having  attained  man's  estate  or 
I  might  have  done  something  to  show  my  gratitude. 


AN  ILLINOIS  SANDWICH 

This  big  Sandwich  is  in  Dekalb  County,  northern  part 
of  the  State  of  Illinois.  What  large  village  does  it  help 
to  support?  How  did  it  get  its  name?  What  is  it  noted 
for?  These  questions  and  similar  ones  have  frequently 
been  asked  by  people  who  have  heard  of  the  place  but 
are  not  acquainted  with  the  geography  of  the  State,  in 


DOUBLING    BACK  47 

and  about  the  environments  of  one  of  the  greatest  cities 
of  the  world — Chicago. 

Sandwich  is  a  town  of  about  3,000  inhabitants  and  as 
it  cut  quite  a  figure  in  my  history  and  was  a  landmark  that 
I  passed  frequently  on  my  trail,  I  must  give  it  a  little  write- 
up.  I  have  not  known  many  people,  who  were  born  there, 
that  ever  became  famous,  unless  it  was  the  humorist,  Brick 
Pomeroy,  and  I  doubt  if  he  was  born  in  the  little  agri- 
cultural inland  city. 

The  place  is  agricultural  because  it  is  surrounded  with 
cornfields  and  manufactories  of  all  kinds  of  corn  planting, 
cultivating,  harvesting,  and  feed  grinding  implements, 
windmills,  pumps,  barb  wire  and  binders.  It  is  sixty- 
three  miles  from  Chicago,  on  the  C.,  B.  &  Q.,  that  makes 
it  famous,  as  I  have  been  told  the  "Q"  owns  and  controls 
more  miles  of  railroad  than  any  other  railroad  company 
in  the  world. 

It  received  its  name  from  a  colony  of  New  Yorkers, 
my  grandfather  Hoag  among  them,  who  settled  upon  the 
beautiful  prairie.  There  being  a  colony  of  settlers  on  the 
east  and  another  ten  miles  west,  they  named  the  district 
Sandwich  and  it  was  not  many  years  until  Sandwich 
outgrew  both  Somonauk  and  Piano,  with  its  large  agri- 
cultural implement  manufacturing  plants,  schools,  churches 
and  shade  trees. 

I  was  there  at  birth,  babyhood,  boyhood,  youth  and 
manhood,  although  I  never  lived  there  more  than  four 
years  all  told.  I  visited  relatives  and  friends  there  a 
great  many  times,  while  living  east  of  the  Rockies  and  I 
had  lots  of  fun  and  sorrow  in  dear  old  Sandwich.  My 


48  DOUBLING    BACK 

memory  doubles  back  that  far  very  often,  for  it  is  a  land- 
mark that  has  always  directed  me  in  the  right  path,  but 
there  were  some  obstacles  around  there  that  proved  mighty 
hard  to  climb  over — love,  disappointment,  death. 


THE  LADY  WITH  FORMS 

(1884.) 

I'm  telling  the  truth  when  I  say  that  I  was  discharged 
from  the  office  force  of  the  Corn  Plow  works  at  Sandwich 
for  being  more  attentive  to  my  sweetheart  than  I  was  to 
my  job.  My  prospective  father-in-law  was  a  stockholder 
in  the  company  and  he  did  not  want  me  hanging  'round, 
so  it  was  an  easy  matter  to  have  me  fired.  He  thought 
I  would  then  leave  town,  but  I  secured  a  job  in  the  print- 
ing office  and  kept  hanging  around  until  I  bought  a  pros- 
pectus of  " forms."  It  was  then,  I  imagined,  that  I  would 
be  on  the  road  to  fortune.  That  was  what  the  lady  told 
me,  anyhow. 

One  day  the  postmaster  told  me  there  was  a  grand 
lady  who  wanted  to  see  me.  Then  the  druggist,  whom  I 
assisted  evenings,  said  there  would  be  a  lady  at  the  store 
to  see  me  at  seven  o'clock  that  evening,  on  a  very  im- 
portant matter.  I  saw  the  lady — she  was  magnificent! 
She  had  a  flow  of  language  equal  to  the  greatest  of  all 
silver-tongued  orators.  In  a  few  minutes  I  had  signed 
up  and  agreed  to  travel  with  her  and  her  troupe  of  book 
agents  into  the  State  of  Kansas.  I  paid  her  seven  dollars! 
for  a  prospectus  and  a  copy  of  "Kelley's  Compendium  of 


DOUBLING    BACK  49 

Forms."  She  explained  how  easy  it  was  to  sell  the  work 
and  that  I  should  start  immediately,  so  as  to  get  familiar 
with  my  duties  and  thus  be  prepared  to  join  her  and  the 
little  troupe  inside  of  ten  days.  "Within  a  year  I  was  to 
be  general  agent  for  some  state  and  have  an  income  that 
would  be  equal  to  that  of  a  United  States  senator. 

I  quit  my  job  with  the  druggist  and  took  the  train  the 
next  morning  for  Dixon,  an  adjoining  town,  to  try  my 
luck.  Alas !  the  first  call  I  made  was  at  a  modest  looking 
cottage.  The  lady  of  the  house  said  she  did  not  have  time 
to  talk  to  me  and  slammed  the  door  in  my  face, — at  the 
same  time  my  enthusiasm  was  slammed  into  my  stomach, — 
I  was  faint  and  hungry.  I  saw  that  I  was  not  cut  out 
right  for  a  book  agent.  After  thinking  the  matter  over  a 
while  I  concluded  that  I  would  try  to  sell  the  farmers. 
"Kelley's  Compendium  of  Forms"  was  just  what  they 
needed.  I  started  for  the  country,  sold  seven  books  in 
seven  days,  delivered  them  and  quit  the  book  agent  busi- 
ness forever.  

ON  THE  ROAD 

I  meet  William  J.  McKinley. 

While  a  book  agent  at  Dixon  I  also  sold  campaign 
lithographs  of  Grover  Cleveland  to  help  pay  expenses, 
and  all  the  time  I  was  a  black  Republican — just  because 
my  father  was.  Isn't  that  reason  enough?  I  cast  my 
first  vote  for  James  G.  Elaine. 

Just  before  leaving  Dixon  I  accidentally  met  Albert 
Alonzo  Root,  an  advertising  man.  He  explained  that  he 


50  DOUBLING    BACK 

employed  agents  to  solicit  advertisements  from  the  mer- 
chants in  different  towns,  placed  them  in  the  form  of  a 
directory  and  paid  the  agents  a  good  commission.  He  and 
his  wife  made  the  directories  with  the  auto  shading  pens 
and  were  quite  prosperous.  I  became  an  agent  for  him 
and  traveled  as  far  east  as  Borne,  New  York,  and  visited 
towns  in  the  states  of  Illinois,  Indiana,  Ohio,  Pennsyl- 
vania and  New  York. 

I  shook  hands  with  Grover  Cleveland  in  Buffalo, 
James  G.  Elaine  in  Rochester  and  General  Ben  Butler  in 
Borne,  New  York.  I  passed  through  Mehoopany,  Meshop- 
pen,  Shickshinny,  Wilkes-Barre,  Oil  City,  Erie  and  Pitts- 
burgh. I  saw  Buffalo  Bill  at  Erie  and  the  Black  Crook 
at  Meadville.  I  visited  Ashtabula,  Cleveland  and  Can- 
ton, Ohio. 

We  made  a  business  directory  in  Canton,  and  William 
J.  McKinley,  then  an  attorney  in  that  city,  assisted  me  in 
soliciting  some  of  the  ads.  I  could  prove  this  if  Bill  was 
alive.  He  introduced  me  to  several  merchants — but  he 
never  said  a  word  to  me  about  the  tariff. 

I  first  saw  incandescent  lights  in  Canton;  it  was  also 
here  that  I  drank  my  first  glass  of  lager  beer.  In  fact, 
Canton,  Ohio,  is  quite  a  landmark  on  the  trail,  and  my 
friend  Bill  was  a  good  fellow. 


BACK  TO  CHAMPAIGN  (ILL.) 

We  journeyed  westward  in  the  spring  of  1885,  through 
Ohio  and  up  into  Michigan.     Detroit,  Ypsilanti,  Battle 


DOUBLING    BACK  51 

Creek  and  Lansing — cities  that  used  to  make  burglar-proof 
safes,  wagons,  threshing  machines  and  windmills  instead 
of  automobiles,  flying  machines,  featherbone  and  break- 
fast foods.  From  southern  Michigan  we  traveled  south 
across  northern  Indiana,  stopping  at  the  state  prison  in 
Michigan  City;  thence  into  Illinois  and  rested  in  Cham- 
paign for  a  few  weeks. 

Of  course  I  was  anxious  to  see  my  sweetheart  at  Sand- 
wich and  took  a  run  up  there  for  a  few  days.  Soon  I 
discovered  that  "  grass  had  grown  in  untrodden  places. " 
Her  father  and  Sid  Hobbs,  during  my  absence,  had  fixed 
things  so  that  Sid  was  her  accepted  suitor.  They  were 
to  be  married  in  a  few  days  so  I  took  the  "Q"  back  to 
Champaign. 

Champaign  was  a  dry  college  town.  I  remained  there 
several  weeks.  Mr.  Boot  and  I  got  up  a  band  tournament 
and  had  a  good  time.  The  Boots  kept  me  busy  and  tried 
to  console  me  in  my  disappointment,  as  did  the  landlord 
of  the  little  hotel.  His  name  was  Peregrin  White  and  he 
was  a  descendant  of  the  first  white  child  born  among  the  Pil- 
grims, after  they  landed  in  America.  I  told  him  that  I 
only  wished  that  I  was  one  of  the  originals  at  that  moment 
so  people  wouldn't  talk  to  me.  We  had  a  Plymouth  Bock 
chicken  for  dinner  and  after  that  I  felt  better.  'We 
straightened  up  our  affairs  with  the  different  bands,  then 
went  to  Celina  Lake,  Ohio  (the  largest  artificial  lake  in 
the  world),  arranged  another  band  contest,  fished  in  the 
lake,  read  dailies,  dime  novels  and  tracts  until  the  band 
contest  broke  up  in  a  row.  Then  we  departed  for  Three 
Oaks  and  Warren's  Featherbone  factory  in  Michigan. 


52  DOUBLING    BACK 


A  BAND  CONTEST 

The  Swede's  opinion: 
Say  you  fellar,  stop, 
I  tale  you  sure  pop, 

That  Swede  band  she's  the  best  one  sure  thing 
When  she  make  dat  bully  noise, 
Than  she  fulls  me  full  of  yoys, 

That  I  feel  youst  like  I  dance  and  sing. 
I  feel  youst  like  balloon, 
Want  to  fly  right  o'er  the  moon, 

And  light  with  both  feet  in  the  sand. 
My  neck  she  all  swell  up 
Youst  like  a  bull  dog  pup, 

When  I  hear  dat  bully  Swede  boy  band. 

The  Italian's  opinion : 

Well!  I  guessa  fora  de  big  musicka  place, 

Italy  he  sura  taka  some  cake! 
I  willa  not  makka  some  fun  of  your  face! 

But  this  Italiana  banda  is  Jake! 
I  feela  de  dago  red  shoota  tru  ma  vein! 

Ana  ma  blood  beena  all  on  fire! 
I  forgetta  ina  name! 

I  loosa  all  pain! 

Mya  brain  floata  higher  an'  higher. 

The  street  kids  opinion: 

Say!  cull!  der  ain't  no  odder  band  in  de  frame, 

Of  dis  American  United  States, 
From  Portland,  Ore.,  to  dat  odder  Port.,  in  Maine, 

What  will  ever  play  inside  de  Pearly  Gates. 


DOUBLING  BACK 


53 


I'll  bet,  when  de  angels  sings  der  heav'nly  song 
Of  welcom  to  all  us  kids,  what's  good; 

You'll  hear  de  Streed  Kid's  band 

Playin'  in  de  big  grand  stand, 

An'  these  odder  bands  will  all  be  splittin'  wood. 


THE  ACTING  BEE  BUMBLING 
(1885.) 

I  became  first  interested  in  snow  acting  people  in  July, 
1885,  at  Dowagiac,  Michigan,  when  I  met  0.  W.  Heywood, 
advance  agent  and  manager  for  Alba  Heywood,  imper- 
sonator, humorist  and  comedian. 

"We  became  quite  well  ac- 
quainted at  the  hotel  where  j 
we  were  staying  over  Sun- 
day. "We  took  a  long  walk 
together,  visited  the  ceme- 
tery on  purpose  to  read  the 
inscriptions  on  a  famous 
monument  that  had  been 
erected  by  a  wealthy  old 
infidel,  who  was  still  living, 
and  here  is  one  of  them: 

"Here    lies    A B , 

who  died  (date)  as  he  lived 
disbeliever  in  God  and 


*!5  PER  flONTH  BND  COKES 


the  Bible."    I  am  sure  the 
man  is  now  dead  and  per- 


54  DOUBLING    BACK 

haps  he  is  sitting  on  the  top  of  a  red  hot  monument,  writ- 
ing red  hot  articles  on  Atheism,  with  a  red  hot  pencil,  in 
the  place  where  infidels  ought  to  go. 

I  explained  my  business  to  Mr.  Heywood  and  he  told 
me  their  season  was  just  closing  and  that  he  would  like  to 
enter  into  some  kind  of  an  arrangement  with  me  so  that 
he  could  keep  busy  and  at  the  same  time  make  a  little 
money  and  enjoy  a  vacation  from  the  show  business.  I 
left  Alonso's  employ  and  met  Heywood  at  the  Sweets 
hotel  in  Grand  Rapids,  by  appointment.  Together  we 
made  directories  in  all  of  the  small  towns  near  the  city 
and  enjoyed  the  boating,  fishing,  skating  rinks,  girls  and 
carriage  rides  until  he  was  called  to  headquarters,  in  order 
to  reorganize  the  show  for  the  '85  and  '86  season.  I  went 
with  him  to  the  Heywood  farm,  near  Kalamazoo,  saw  the 
mother,  father,  sisters  and  three  younger  brothers  with 
bare  feet  and  cheeks  of  tan,  also  the  great  Alba  Heywood 
[himself. 

They  all  interested  me  so  much  that  I  wanted  to  join 
the  show  and  it  resulted  in  my  signing  up  for  fifteen  dol- 
lars a  month  and  cakes.  My  name  went  on  the  posters  as 
manager,  while  in  reality  I  was  only  a  property  man.  I 
registered  the  troupe's  names  in  auto  shading  pen  letters, 
attended  to  the  baggage,  swept  the  stage,  rustled  furni- 
ture, gathered  lithos,  looked  after  the  photos,  took  tickets; 
at  the  door  and  peddled  bills  all  over  the  towns;  and  I 
think  I  earned  my  salary. 

The  company  numbered  five,  all  men,  there  being  a 
piano  player,  flute  player,  female  prima  donna  imperson- 
ator, Mr.  Heywood  and  I.  Mr.  Heywood  was  the  whole 


DOUBLING    BACK  55 

show,  impersonating  all  kinds  of  characters,  reciting  and 
singing  poems  and  songs  in  dialect  from  "Miss  Killman- 
segg  and  Her  Golden  Leg"  to  "Peekaboo."  He  began, 
calling  me  "Meadie,  Old  Boy,"  and  it  was  not  long  until 
it  was  "Meadie  this"  and  "Meadie  that."  We  opened  in 
their  little  home  town  and  proceeded  to  tour  Michigan 
with  the  Alba  Heywood  company,  all  one  night  stands. 


A  LICORICE  JUICE  LANDLORD 

Chewing  tobacco  is  a  filthy  habit.  One  morning  the 
little  troupe  of  five  arrived  at  the  hotel  in  Homer.  We 
went  into  the  office  and  I  began  to  do  the  grand  register- 
ing act.  The  landlord  was  out  in  front  of  the  hotel,  near 
the  curb,  washing  out  the  spittoons.  A  fellow  townsman 
passed  along  and  said:  "Good  morning,  Bob,  cleaning  out 
the  snipes,  eh?"  Bob  said:  "Yep,  got  a  show  troupe  in 
this  mornin'.  They're  ginerally  good  terbaccer  chewers, 
so  I  got  to  prepare.  'Spose  they'll  spit  all  over  the  floor 
and  the  wall  anyhow  and  never  see  the  spittoons. ' ' 

Mr.  Heywood  overheard  this  short  dialogue  and  it 
made  him  a  bit  angry.  Not  one  of  us  chewed  tobacco  and 
I  was  the  only  member  that  smoked.  Mr.  Heywood  wanted 
to  show  the  landlord  that  he  was  mistaken,  so  he  went  up 
the  street  and  returned  in  a  few  minutes  with  five  large 
sticks  of  black  licorice  and  he  said:  "Boys,  stick  around 
the  hotel  office  this  morning  and  chew  licorice  to  beat  the 
band.  Fill  up  the  spittoons  and  you  need  not  be  particular 
about  hitting  them  every  time.  If  there  is  any  damage 


56  DOUBLING    BACK 

I'll  pay  it,  but  chew  licorice  and  spit."  In  a  few  minutes 
the  cuspidors  were  well  decorated  and  the  office  looked  a 
little  bit  bar-room-a-fied.  Mr.  Heywood  walked  up  to 
the  landlord,  who  was  standing  by  the  desk,  and  with  re- 
markable coolness  said:  "Fine  day,"  and  shot  a  great 
mouthful  of  licorice  juice  at  the  spittoon,  where  it  gently 
glanced  and  spattered  all  over  the  landlord's  feet.  The 
balance  of  us  were  expectorating  promiscuously  in  all 
directions.  With  an  oath  "Bob"  said:  "What  in  hell 
are  you  trying  to  do?  Ain't  them  spittoons  large  enough? 
Do  you  take  this  office  for  a  barroom  ?  I  never  saw  a  show 
troupe  yet  that  wasn't  at  home  in  a  barroom."  We  did 
not  answer,  but  Mr.  Heywood  went  to  the  wash  room, 
rinsed  out  his  mouth,  returned  to  the  landlord  and  said: 
"My  name  is  Heywood.  These  four  gentlemen  and  I  came 
into  your  hotel  this  morning  and  just  as  we  entered  I 
overheard  the  remark  you  made  about  show  troupes  and 
tobacco  chewers.  Now,  then,  we  do  not  use  tobacco  and  we 
are  as  well  behaved  and  respectable  as  any  gentlemen 
guests  that  have  ever  stopped  at  your  hotel.  That  is  licor- 
ice. What  are  the  damages  ?  Make  out  my  bill  and  we  will 
move  to  the  other  hotel." 

The  landlord  was  dumbfounded.  He  apologized  "pro- 
fusely" and  begged  us  to  remain,  saying  he  would  give 
us  the  best  the  house  afforded.  We  did  not  move.  He  gave 
us  the  best  rooms  and  insisted  upon  our  sitting  at  the 
drummers'  table  at  troupers'  rates. 


DOUBLING    BACK  57 


FATHER'S  PROPHESY. 

During  my  engagement  of  three  months  with  the  Alba 
Heywood  company  I  learned  nearly  all  of  Mr.  Heywood 's 
numbers,  from  listening  to  them  while  on  the  door.  I  was 
very  much  interested  in  the  acting  business  and  would 
like  to  have  continued,  but  fifteen  a  month  and  cakes  was 
rather  small  pay  for  the  amount  of  work  that  I  was  doing 
and  I  looked  upon  the  engagement  as  more  of  a  pleasure 
tour  than  anything  else.  I  knew  that  Mr.  Heywood  could 
not  afford  to  pay  me  any  more.  I  told  him  that  I  would 
have  to  go  to  work  with  my  pens  again.  My  sister  had 
returned  to  Iron  Mountain,  Michigan,  for  a  visit  with 
father.  I  concluded  that  I  would  visit  father  and  step- 
mother at  the  same  time  and  have  a  look  at  "sis"  and  the 
twelve-pound  cherub,  whom  I  had  not  seen  for  three  years. 
With  many  regrets  I  said  good-by  to  the  little  troupe  and 
railroaded  via  Chicago  to  Iron  Mountain,  Michigan. 

The  acting  bee  was  always  bumbling  and  I  would  amuse 
father  and  the  folks  with  extracts  from  some  of  Heywood 's 
specialties  and  father  would  always  say:  "Ed,  you  will  be 
a  fool  yet."  • 

AN  AMATEUR  IMPERSONATOR 

Father  insisted  that  I  should  take  a  part  in  the  enter- 
tainment given  by  the  Foresters  at  their  hall,  up  at  the 
Chapin  mine.  He  introduced  me  to  the  chairman  of  the 
committee  and  told  him  that  I  would  help  them  out,  at  the 
same  time  remarking  that  "he  is  a  regular  fool."  It 


58      .  DOUBLING    BACK 

pleased  father  very  much  when  I  told  the  gentlemen  that 
I  would  go  on  for  one  number. 

I  dressed  up  like  an  old  woman  and  used  the  end  of  a 
cow's  tail  for  a  wig,  reciting  a  little  character  recitation 
entitled  "My  Josiar."  It  happened  that  the  captain  of 
the  mine  was  named  Josiah  James,  a  Cornish  man,  and 
the  audience  thought  I  had  made  up  the  verses  for  the 
occasion.  The  consequence  was  that  I  made  a  tremendous 
hit.  Mr.  James  came  to  me  and  said :  "I  thought  'e  were 
my  hold  woman — thee  art  some  caution,  sure  henough." 

During  my  visit  in  Iron  Mountain  there  was  a  big 
masquerade  ball  at  Stub  Bundle's  hall.  Herb  Armstrong, 
Stub  Bundle,  Emil  Carrier  and  I  attended  as  "White 
Caps."  No  one  would  have  known  us  because  we  were 
all  dressed  alike.  But  while  waltzing  around,  Herb  got 
tired  and  wanted  to  walk  alone  for  a  few  minutes.  That 
settled  it ;  Molly  MacDonald  shouted  so  that  every  one  in 
the  hall  could  hear:  "There  goes  Hlerb  Armstrong.  I 
know  him  by  his  snowshoe  gait." 

I  also  enjoyed  some  fishing  on  the  Paint  Biver.  One 
day  I  landed  the  biggest  trout  that  was  ever  hooked  in 
the  Paint  Biver.  I  can  prove  this  by  several  noted  indi- 
viduals ;  from  the  cook,  Joe  Ganzwill,  who  was  an  exiled 
Bussian  count,  to  State  Senator  Byron  S.  Waite,  Fabian  J. 
Trudell,  prominent  lawyer;  Herb  Armstrong  and  Ed 
Kingsford,  all  of  whom  were  with  me. 

Armstrong  and  Kingsford  had  some  timber  to  cruise 
up  on  the  Paint  Biver  and  invited  Messrs.  Waite,  Trudell 
and  me  to  go  along  and  enjoy  some  good  trout  fishing.  We 
loaded  a  small  skiff  into  the  wagonbox,  with  plenty  of 


DOUBLING    BACK  59 

blankets  and  edibles.  Herb  would  pole  the  skiff  up  stream 
alone  for  about  a  mile,  then  two  of  us  would  get  into  the 
same,  tie  an  anchor  to  the  skiff  and  when  we  reached  camp 
there  was  trout  enough  to  last  for  several  days.  But  I 
wanted  to  catch  a  big  one,  so  one  morning  I  went  up  the 
river  to  the  Old  Fraser  dam  and  climbed  down  underneath 
the  cribbing  where  I  could  lie  on  my  stomach  and  gaze 
down  into  the  still  water  inside  one  of  the  cribs.  I  could 
not  use  a  pole,  but  I  baited  a  fair-sized  hook  with  a  choice 
angle  worm  and  gently  lowered  it  into  the  water.  The 
largest  trout  that  I  had  ever  seen  came  out  from  under  a 
log,  moved  like  a  battleship  toward  that  worm,  turned  up 
his  nose  and  glided  back  out  of  sight.  I  raised  and  lowered 
that  hook  four  times  a  minute  for  three  hours.  The  flies 
and  mosquitoes  nearly  ate  me  up;  I  smoked  until  I  got 
sick  at  my  stomach,  which  had  a  pain  on  the  outside  caused 
by  a  knot  that  was  in  the  log  I  was  lying  across.  Time 
and  again  I  raised  the  hook.  I  put  another  worm  on, 
until  it  began  to  look  like  a  ball  of  yarn.  And  every  time 
I  lowered  it  Mr.  Trout  would  come  out  and  take  another 
smell.  When  I  had  just  about  given  up  all  hopes  he 
quietly  slid  out,  opened  his  jaw  and  shut  down  upon  that 
bunch  of  worms.  I  pulled,  hooked  him  good,  crawled  out 
and  ran  all  the  way  to  camp  before  I  took  him  off  the 
hook.  I  heard  Herb  Armstrong  tell  this  story  to  George 
Seibert,  Hugh  McLaughlin  and  other  great  fishermen,  who 
were  not  George  Washingtons  (they  say  George  went  fish- 
ing, although  he  never  told  a  lie)  and  Herb  always  swore 
that  "Ed  Meade  caught  the  biggest  trout  that  he  ever  saw 
pulled  out  of  the  Paint  River/' 


60  DOUBLING    BACK 


f  NEWSPAPER  CLIPPING 

"Ed  Meade  and  a  party  of  young  people  attended  the 
performance  of  Monte  Christo  in  a  body  the  other  evening 
and  Ed  scored  a  hit.  In  the  prison  scene,  where  D antes 
learns  of  the  treasure  and  plans  to  escape,  Ed  was  over- 
come and  it  was  all  so  realistic  to  him  that  he  jumped  up 
and  cried  out  in  a  very  loud  voice,  'By  jove,  I  hope  he'll 
get  away.'  The  intensity  of  the  scene  and  the  splendid 
manner  in  which  Mr.  Edwin  Clifford  portrayed  the  part 
of  Edmond  Dantes  seemed  to  completely  charm  Mr. 
Meade,  and  for  the  time  being  he  forgot  where  he  was. 
The  remark  was  so  spontaneous  and  well  meant  that  it 
nearly  threw  the  entire  audience  into  convulsions.  They 
were  obliged  to  ring  down  the  curtain,  and  it  was  fully 
ten  minutes  before  they  could  proceed  with  the  perform- 
ance, which  Mr.  Clifford  refused  to  do  until  the  young 
man  apologized  to  him  and  the  audience.  Ed  made  an 
apology  and  the  young  people  with  him  will  ever  remem- 
ber that  performance  of  Monte  Cristo." — Range. 


THE  ROAD  AGAIN 

The  fourth  of  July,  at  Iron  Mountain,  1886,  wound  up 
with  a  grand  ball  at  the  town  hall,  given  by  the  volunteer 
fire  department.  They  had  covered  themselves  with  glory 
that  day  by  saving  a  widow's  home  from  burning  to  the 
ground.  The  roof  and  part  of  the  upper  story  burned 
and  of  the  lower  floor  there  was  very  little  left.  I  lost 


DOUBLING    BACK  61 

my  watch  in  trying  to  save  a  straw  mattress  and  a  wash 
boiler  at  the  same  time.  The  lady  thanked  us  all  kindly 
for  saving  the  cellar.  We  ran  back  a  half  mile  with  the 
hose  cart,  thinking  we  had  accomplished  a  most  wonderful 
feat;  this  too  when  we  had  on  our  parade  uniforms. 

The  next  day  after  the  Fourth  another  young  man  and 
I  started  for  the  west.  We  made  business  directories'  from 
Michigan  to  Winnipeg  via  Wisconsin,  Dakota  and  Minne- 
sota. He  left  me  to  go  to  college  at  Duluth,  about  October 
1st.  After  securing  a  new  partner,  Mr.  E.  E.  Frazier,  a 
bonny  Scotchman,  a  hustler  and  good  companion,  I  pro- 
ceeded with  him  upon  a  successful  tour  through  the  same 
states  over  another  route.  We  had  two  very  strange  ex- 
periences, to  be  related  later.  The  three  months  previous 
did  not  produce  an  event  that  I  can  recall  that  is  worthy 
of  mention. 


A  $25,000  MISS 

Superior  City  is  just  across  the  mouth  of  the  St.  Louis 
River  from  Duluth,  Minnesota,  in  Wisconsin,  but  in  1886 
there  was  no  Superior  City  and  the  little  town  of  West 
Superior  was  platted  and  the  improvement  company  was 
draining  the  land,  selling  town  lots  and  otherwise  en- 
deavoring to  lay  the  foundation  of  a  rival  city  to  Duluth. 

About  ten  miles  east  of  Duluth  was  the  old  town  of 
Superior,  and  it  seemed  that  the  citizens  and  owners  of 
the  town  knew  there  would  be  a  large  town  there  at  some 
time  so  they  held  their  property  at  such  enormous  prices 
that  investors  and  capitalists  would  not  buy.  Therefore 


62  DOUBLING    BACK 

a  corporation  was  organized.  They  purchased  a  large 
tract  of  the  swamp  land,  drained  off  the  water  and  made 
West  Superior,  Wisconsin,  with  whaleback  ship  yards, 
grain  elevators,  railroad  shops  and  factories. 

We  went  to  old  Superior,  a  town  of  about  a  thousand 
inhabitants,  made  a  directory,  and  some  booster  for  the 
new  town  induced  us  to  stop  there  and  try  to  make  one. 
We  found  the  hotel  surrounded  with  mud  and  water.  The 
company's  agents  had  their  offices  in  the  building  and  were 
doing  business.  By  extra  hard  work  we  managed  to  get 
twelve  ads  on  our  directory,  including  the  town  site  com- 
pany, whose  hustling  agent  tried  his  best  to  sell  me  a 
twenty-five  foot  lot  on  the  main  street,  opposite  the  hotel, 
for  $250.00 — one-third  down  and  the  balance  in  five  years 
— but  the  water,  the  bull  rushes  and  the  red  clay  mud 
frightened  me  out. 

Three  years  later  I  visited  the  city  of  Superior  and 
sold  a  good  many  carloads  of  building  material.  The  First 
National  Bank  was  building  a  granite  structure  on  the  lot 
that  the  agent  tried  to  sell  to  me  for  $250.00.  I  inquired 
and  was  told  that  the  purchase  price  was  $25,000.00.  Were 
you  ever  real  seasick  ?  I  was  right  then  and  there. 


ANOTHER  MISS 

Mr.  Frazier  and  I  made  a  successful  eight  weeks'  tour 
in  Wisconsin  and  arrived  in  Ashland,  just  before  the  close 
of  navigation,  intending  to  take  the  steamer  Mo/nistee  to 
Duluth. 


DOUBLING    BACK  63 

While  in  the  city  of  Ashland  we  met  an  old  Hancock 
boy,  Dan  Coughlin,  who  was  later  connected  with  the 
Clan-a-Grael  and  the  murder  of  Dr.  Cronin,  in  Chicago. 
He  walked  down  to  the  steamer  with  us  and  borrowed  a 
"five  spot"  on  the  way.  I  think  he  needed  the  money. 
Upon  our  arrival  at  the  steamer  Mr.  Frazier  remarked  that 
she  was  loaded  pretty  heavy,  and  we  went  on  board  to  see 
the  clerk  about  a  stateroom.  The  clerk  told  us  that  they 
were  crowded  and  that  we  would  have  to  sleep  in  one 
bunk.  Frazier — (he  only  weighed  265  pounds) — said: 
"Not  for  me.  Come  on,  Ed,  we  will  go  back  to  the  Che- 
quamegon  hotel  and  go  by  rail." 

We  walked  back  to  the  hotel,  ate  a  good  supper,  made 
out  a  new  route  via  St.  Paul,  through  Minnesota  and  Da- 
kota and  retired  to  our  beds.  The  steamer  sailed  out  of 
the  harbor.  In  the  morning  as  we  were  entering  the  dining 
room,  Dan  Coughlin  approached  us  and  said:  "Who  gave 
you  fellows  the  tip  ?  The  steamer  Manistee  went  to  pieces 
on  the  Apostle  Islands  last  night  and  everybody  on  board 
perished."  We  were  so  faint  that  Dan  had  to  support  us 
into  the  barroom,  where  we  took  two  drinks  before  either 
of  us  could  speak.  Wouldn't  you  call  that  a  miss?  It 
was  Providence  and  we  nearly  missed  that  first  drink  on 
account  of  the  trembling.  The  liquor  revived  us  and  with 
a  prayer  of  thanks  to  the  Great  Preserver,  we  went  to 
breakfast.  All  that  was  ever  found  of  that  ill-fated  steamer 
was  the  pilot  house,  with  the  name  painted  upon  it  in 
small  letters,  "Manistee." 


64  DOUBLING    BACK 


ALONSO  AND  ST.  LOUIS 

Mr.  Frazier  continued  to  bring  me  good  luck,  but  the 
weather  became  blizzardy  at  "Watertown,  Dakota,  and  he 
was  obliged  to  say  good-by  and  depart  for  the  Turtle 
mountains,  where  he  owned  a  wheat  farm  (homestead)  and 
I  railroaded  to  Sandwich  for  Christmas,  via  St.  Paul.  I 
stopped  over  at  Prairie  du  Chien,  where  I  had  a  nice  two 
days'  visit  with  dear  Aunt  Sholl,  and  after  a  few  daya  in 
Chicago  I  arrived  in  my  native  home  for  the  holidays. 
While  there  I  received  a  letter  from  Alonso  Boot  who 
wanted  me  to  join  him,  and  away  I  went  for  St.  Louis, 
Missouri. 

January,  February  and  March,  1887,  were  the  longest 
three  months  of  winter  that  I  ever  experienced.  It  was 
sunshine,  rain,  sleet  and  icy  sidewalks  with  icicles  drop- 
ping off  the  buildings  down  the  back  of  your  neck.  Other- 
wise St.  Louis  was  all  right.  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing 
Frank  James,  the  noted  outlaw.  I  also  visited  Uncle  David 
Hoag,  and  all  his  family.  He  and  I  had  some  good  times 
together.  At  one  time  he  had  been  a  great  political  wire 
puller  and  owned  a  large  cafe  on  Olive  street,  consequently1 
he  was  well  acquainted  and  showed  me  the  town  from 
Mayor  Francis  to  a  cigarette  factory. 

Mr.  Alonso  Root  wanted  me  to  manage  his  directory 
office  for  him  while  he  made  a  three  months'  trip  into 
Kansas  on  some  very  important  advertising  business.  I 
accepted  the  job,  but  was  not  kept  very  busy,  therefore 
had  plenty  of  leisure  for  all  kinds  of  fun. 


DOUBLING    BACK  65 


THE  ACTING  BEE  BUMBLES  AGAIN 

While  in  St.  Louis  I  experienced  an  incident  in  con- 
nection with  the  legitimate,  Shakespearean  actor  and  tra- 
gedian, Lawrence  Barrett.  This  experience  is  worth  men- 
tioning as  it  proves  that  actor  folks,  as  a  rule,  are  very- 
generous,  conscientious,  kind  hearted  and  true. 

Four  young  men,  from  Pike  County,  Missouri  (I  think 
it  was  Pike  County),  were  rooming  at  the  same  hotel  I  was 
stopping  at,  and  I  became  a  little  bit  acquainted  with  them. 
They  were  looking  for  work  and  read  the  help  wanted 
column  every  day.  One  morning  they  came  to  me  and 
wanted  to  know  what  the  following  ad  meant:  " Wanted — 
Fifty  men  at  the  stage  door,  Grand  Opera  House,  at  eight 
o'clock,  Monday  morning." 

I  told  them  what  I  knew  about  supers  for  soldiers, 
sailors,  mobs,  carrying  spears,  broad  axes,  etc.  They  asked 
me  to  go  down  with  them  in  the  morning  and  investigate. 
They  thought  they  could  work  at  night  and  perhaps  get 
enough  to  pay  room  rent  while  looking  for  another  job 
in  the  daytime.  I  had  a  hankering  to  be  a  super  myself, 
so  I  went  with  them  and  we  were  all  engaged  by  the  stage 
director  for  six  nights  and  two  matinees  of  "Rienzi,  the 
Last  of  the  Tribunes,"  as  produced  by  Lawrence  Barrett 
and  his  big  New  York  company,  including  Miss  Mina  K. 
Gale. 

We  rehearsed  all  the  morning  and  the  stage  director 
told  us  that  we  would  receive  $2.50  each  for  the  eight  per- 
formances and  could  get  our  money  at  the  box  office  on  the 


66  DOUBLING    BACK 

following  Sunday  morning  at  nine  o'clock.  Everything 
was  0.  K.  until  that  day  and  hour.  We  called  for  our 
money  and  lined  up  at  the  window,  when  a  man  approached 
us  and  stated  that  he  had  orders  to  pay  us  off  at  one  dol- 
lar and  fifty  cents  each.  We  made  a  big  holler  and  said 
nixy-nix.  We  held  a  council  of  war  and  appointed  a  tem- 
porary chairman  and  he  selected  a  committee  of  three. 
All  the  others  agreed  to  abide  by  our  decision.  I  was  one 
of  the  three  and  proposed  that  we  find  Mr.  Barrett  and 
report  the  case  to  him.  Then  if  he  could  not  do  anything 
for  us  we  would  be  obliged  to  accept  the  one  dollar  and 
fifty  cents  or  nothing,  as  the  man  at  the  box  office  had 
told  us. 

We  found  Mr.  Barrett  at  the  Southern  hotel  and  sent 
our  card  and  compliments  with  a  note  that  we  were 
obliged  to  see  him  upon  very  important  business.  He 
came  down  to  the  office  of  the  hotel  and  we  told  him  our 
troubles.  He  looked  out  upon  the  street  and  saw  a  real 
healthy  mob,  called  his  manager  and  told  him  to  go  with 
us  to  the  theatre.  At  the  same  time  he  said:  "If  these 
young  gentlemen  are  telling  the  truth  see  that  they  re- 
ceive the  one  dollar  and  fifty  cents  at  the  box  office  then 
return  here  and  call  for  me." 

We  went  to  the  theatre,  received  our  one  fifty  per  and 
returned  to  the  hotel.  The  manager  called  Mr.  Barrett, 
who  lined  us  up  on  the  sidewalk  in  front  of  the  lobby  of 
the  Southern  hotel  and  gave  each  one  of  us  a  big  silver 
dollar  out  of  his  own  pocket  and  we  were  ' '  paid  in  full. ' ' 


DOUBLING    BACK  67 

A  KENTUCKY  FISH  STORY 

Mr.  Root  returned  from  Kansas  and  while  he  was  away 
one  of  his  agents,  who  had  made  a  trip  from  St.  Louis 
to  Memphis,  from  there  to  northern  Ohio,  had  left  a  great 
deal  of  advertising  along  the  route  that  had  not  been  paid 
for.  Alonso  asked  me  if  I  would  like  to  go  over  the  route 
and  try  and  make  a  few  collections  and  he  would  meet  me 
in  Sandusky  about  the  first  of  July. 

I  agreed  and  started,  made  the  collections,  enjoyed  the 
blue  grass,  arrived  at  Maysville,  Kentucky,  and  while  wait- 
ing for  the  steamer  Bonanza  I  visited  one  of  the  famous 
distilleries,  went  fishing  in  the  Ohio  River,  which  resulted 
in  my  catching  quite  a  large  pike.  I  took  it  to  the  hotel, 
hired  a  colored  boy  to  dress  and  clean  it  and  watched  to 
see  how  he  would  do  it.  Upon  cutting  the  fish  open — Lo ! 
and  behold!  he  found  another  pike  nearly  as  large  as  the 
original.  The  boy  said :  ' '  Boss,  you  done  ketched  two  fish 
wid  one  hook."  When  the  boy  cut  that  one  open  there 
was  the  third  pike.  The  boy  was  about  to  quit  and  thought 
I  was  playing  a  trick  on  him,  but  after  giving  him  ten 
cents  extra  I  succeeded  in  getting  him  to  cut  the  third. 
Very  carefully  he  proceeded  and  upon  opening  the  fish 
we  found  a  ladies'  beautiful  gold  watch  and  chain.  At  this 
moment  the  landlord's  daughter  came  along  enroute  to 
the  kitchen,  in  tears.  The  colored  boy  was  holding  the 
watch  in  his  hand  and  the  young  lady  spied  it:  "Where 
did  you  get  my  watch?  I  just  lost  it  in  the  river,  not  ten 
minutes  ago."  I  looked  at  the  watch  and  it  was  ticking 
time. 


68  DOUBLING    BACK 

A  Kentucky  colonel  told  me  that  story  when  he  es- 
corted me  through  his  distillery,  and  he  said  the  young 
lady  was  tickled  to  death  when  she  found  out  that  it  was 
really  her  own  watch. 


A  CONFEDERATE  BILL 

I  left  Maysville,  Kentucky,  on  the  Bonanza,  up  river. 
I  had  quite  a  roll  of  Mr.  Boot's  money  in  my  pocket.  When 
I  heard  that  one  of  the  passengers  had  been  robbed  I  be- 
gan to  feel  a  little  bit  scared.  The  captain  stated  that 
everyone  on  board  would  be  searched.  It  seems  the  victim 
had  been  robbed  of  some  jewelry  and  a  roll  of  greenbacks, 
and  he  said  that  he  could  recognize  it  because  there  was 
an  old  ten  dollar  Confederate  bill  wrapped  around  the  out- 
side and  held  there  by  a  small  rubber  band.  Then  I  did 
get  frightened.  They  searched  me  and  upon  finding  my 
roll  of  bills  they  discovered  the  Confederate  bill  and  the 
rubber  band.  I  made  a  scene  and  insisted  that  they  con- 
tinue the  search  and  proclaimed  my  innocence  with  so 
much  vim  that  they  finally  concluded  to  finish  the  search — 
but  the  captain  took  my  roll  and  locked  it  up  in  the  safe. 

Everybody  was  searched,  then  we  proceeded  to  search 
every  stateroom  and  in  the  drain  pipe  to  the  wash  bowl 
in  No.  13  they  found  the  jewelry  and  the  roll  of  bills, 
with  the  ten  dollar  Confederate  bill  nicely  wrapped  around 
the  outside.  All  on  board  apologized  to  me  and  said  they 
really  thought  I  was  guilty  in  spite  of  the  big  talk  that  I 
made.  The  captain  went  with  me  to  the  safe,  took  out  my 
roll  of  bills,  examined  it  very  closely  and  said:  "Young 


DOUBLING    BACK  69 

man,  that  was  a  narrow  escape.  I  see  that  yon  happen 
to  have  a  twenty  dollar  Confederate  bill  instead  of  a  ten. 
Where  did  you  get  it?"  I  told  him  that  Mr.  Russell,  pro- 
prietor of  the  Russellville  hotel  at  Russellville,  Kentucky, 
gave  it  to  me  the  day  before.  He  gave  the  roll  to  me  and  I 
thanked  him  with  tears  in  my  eyes. 


THE  FOURTH  AT  PUT-IN-BAY 

I  reached  Sandusky  and  turned  the  roll  of  cash  over 
to  Alonso,  who  met  me  there.  He,  his  wife  and  I  spent 
the  Fourth  of  July  at  Put-in-Bay  and  saw  Perry  defeat 
the  British  fleet,  the  same  as  he  did  on  September  10, 1813. 
It  was  a  sham  battle,  arranged  especially  for  the  celebra- 
tion and  was  attended  by  many  thousands  of  people.  It 
was  the  grandest  Fourth  of  July  celebration  that  it  has 
ever  been  my  pleasure  to  witness,  but  it  was  all  spoiled. 
The  next  day  a  vigilance  committee  lynched,  to  the  nearest 
telegraph  pole,  a  negro  who  confessed  to  a  heinous  crime. 
Was  the  sin  that  negro  committed  any  worse  in  the  sight 
of  God  than  the  sin  committed  by  the  white  men  who  mur- 
dered that  negro? 

I  have  never  had  a  good  word  to  say  for  that  town 
since.  We  took  the  first  steamer  that  sailed  for  Detroit, 
intending  to  go  to  Port  Huron,  Michigan,  for  the  summer. 
While  at  Detroit  I  called  upon  my  old  high  school  chief, 
Samuel  E.  Whitney.  He  greeted  me  thusly:  "How  are 
you,  Number  Six?"  He  certainly  had  a  good  memory  to 
remember  me  by  my  old  number  after  seven  years,  and 
not  mix  me  up  with  any  of  his  other  number  sixes. 


70  DOUBLING    BACK 

We  remained  in  the  beautiful  city  of  Detroit  for  sev- 
eral days  and  sailed  on  the  steamer  Grayhound  for  Port 
Huron.  I  want  to  tell  you  that  you  will  see  some  of  the 
most  magnificent  scenery  in  the  world  when  you  sail  from 
Sandusky  and  Put-in-Bay  up  Lake  Erie,  Detroit  River, 
Lake  Saint  Glair  and  River  Saint  Clair,  viewing  the  cities, 
parks,  landscapes  and  floating  palaces. 


PORT  HURON— ITS  PROMINENCE  AND  ITS  PIKE 

How  many  gallons  of  pure  fresh  water  will  pass  a  given 
point  at  the  docks  of  this  city,  every  twenty-four  hours,  in 
the  River  Saint  Clair?  It  is  six  thousand  feet  wide,  has 
an  average  depth  of  fifty  feet  and  flows  at  the  rate  of  eight 
miles  an  hour. 

Port  Huron  is  situated  where  the  waters  of  three  of 
the  great  lakes — Superior,  Michigan  and  Huron — form  the 
River  Saint  Clair.  One  of  the  greatest  railroad  tunnels 
in  the  world  passes  underneath  this  river  here  at  Port 
Huron  connecting  the  United  States  and  Canada.  The  tun- 
nel was  built  by  the  Grand  Trunk  railroad.  Thomas  A. 
Edison  lived  in  Port  Huron  when  a  boy.  He  was  a 
"newsy"  on  the  local  trains.  It  is  said  that  his  papers, 
peanuts  and  electric  apparatus  were  kicked  out  of  the  bag- 
gage car  when  the  conductor  received  a  shock.  Port  Huron 
claims  to  be  the  first  city  in  the  world  to  adopt  an  electric 
street  car  system,  which  was  done  in  honor  of  the  great 
Thomas  A.  Edison. 

There  are  more  wall-eyed  pike  to  every  cubic  foot  of 


DOUBLING    BACK  71 

water,  when  the  wind  is  blowing  from  Lake  Huron  and 
the  north — that  is  when  the  pike  are  traveling  down  stream 
— than  at  any  other  place  in  the  world.  When  the  wind 
is  from  the  north  there  are  more  minnows  traveling  up 
stream  than  there  are  pike  traveling  down  stream  and 
that  is  the  time  to  get  the  minnows  and  prepare  for  the 
big  days  of  fishing.  When  the  wind  changes  the  pike  be- 
gin to  travel  north  into  the  lake  again.  At  this  time  there 
are  more  pike  caught  with  a  fifty  foot  line  and  hook  and 
bobber,  by  the  citizens  and  visitors  in  the  city,  than  at  any 
fishing  resort  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 

I  had  sixty  days  of  this  sport,  making  all  my  expenses 
by  selling  what  fish  I  caught  at  two  cents  per  pound.  I 
was  usually  lucky  enough  to  have  plenty  of  minnows  when 
the  pike  were  traveling  north,  and  I  used  to  sell  a  great 
many  at  good  prices. 

Long  live  Port  Huron,  also  its  people,  prominence  and 
its  pike. 


SOME  RIBBON  BUT  NOT  A  RIB 

I  left  Mr.  Alonso  Root  and  his  wife  at  Port  Huron  in 
September,  1887,  and  proceeded  to  Chicago  via  Battle 
Creek,  where  I  had  a  nice  visit  with  my  old  friends,  the 
Hfeywoods,  who  now  lived  in  that  city  and  had  become 
quite  prosperous  in  the  show  business.  The  actor  bee  bum- 
bled as  of  old  in  my  bonnet,  but  as  they  had  no  place 
for  me  at  that  time  I  journeyed  to  Chicago,  obtained  a  job 
making  display  cards  and  helping  in  the  ribbon  depart- 
ment of  a  large  retail  dry  goods  store. 


72 


DOUBLING    BACK 


I  sold  ribbon,  rolled  ribbon,  displayed  ribbon,  measured 
ribbon  and  while  displaying  a  new  assortment  of  ribbon 
along  a  high  and  overloaded  shelf,  covered  myself  with 
ribbon  and  nearly  broke  a  rib.  I  recovered  in  a  few  hours, 
but  it  took  three  clerks  seven  hours  to  wind  up  the  ribbon 
and  place  it  where  it  could  be  displayed  in  the  big  show 
window)  with  artistic  signs  noting  its  /greatly  reduced 
price. 


MORE  ACTOR  BEE,  ARETUS  AND  MARINETTE 

Business  became  slack  after  the  holidays  of  '87  and  '88 
and  the  firm  let  me  out.     I  went  to  see  father  at  Iron 

Mountain  and  as  some  of 
the  young  people  were  put- 
ting on  a  play  for  the  bene- 
fit of  the  library  fund  I 
took  a  part,  and  I  guess 
some  of  the  old  timers 
would  say,  *  *  Hello,  Muggs, ' ' 
to  this  day  if  they  should 
happen  to  see  me.  The  bill 
was  B  a  r  1 1  e  y  Campbell 's 
"Fate"  and  the  actor  bee 
was  busy. 

One  day  father  intro- 
duced me  to  Aretus  Dumm- 
ville.  He  was  a  contractor 
and  builder  from  Marinette, 


DOUBLING    BACK  73 

Wisconsin,  who  had  just  completed  the  contract  of  moving 
a  bunch  of  buildings  from  the  Keelridge  mine  into  the  City 
of  Iron  Mountain  and  was  celebrating.  Said  he  needed  a 
bookkeeper  and  in  a  joking,  slightly  intoxicated  way  of- 
fered me  the  position  of  being  his  private  secretary  and 
said:  "Come  down  to  Marinette  next  Sunday  evening. 
Come  right  to  my  house  and  you  can  begin  work  Monday 
morning. ' ' 

Father  said  it  would  be  a  good  job  and  a  chance  for 
me  to  settle  down  into  something.  So  to  please  him  I  ac- 
cepted Aretus's  offer  and  went  to  Marinette,  February  1, 
1888.  I  found  Mr.  Dummville's  house  without  much  trou- 
ble. He  was  not  at  home,  but  his  wife  asked  me  to  come 
in  and  wait.  About  nine  o'clock  he  came  in,  but  alas! 
failed  to  remember  me.  Said  he  met  so  many  young  men 
that  day  that  he  did  not  know  which  one  he  hired  for  a 
bookkeeper.  I  told  him  who  my  father  was  and  said  that 
as  there  was  evidently  some  mistake  I  would  return  home. 
He  said:  "You'll  not,  you'll  stay  right  here  at  my  house 
and  begin  work  in  the  morning :  I  'm  perfectly  sober  now. 
I  need  a  bookkeeper  and  you  get  the  job.  Come  on  and 
I'll  put  you  to  bed." 

Aretus  proved  to  be  an  eccentric  man,  his  books  con- 
sisted of  a  time  book  and  a  check  book.  All  he  could  do 
was  to  sign  his  name.  He  always  took  a  receipt  for  money 
paid  out  and  did  all  of  his  figuring  in  his  head. 

He  introduced  me  at  a  stationery  store  and  told  me 
to  get  everything  I  wanted,  which  I  did  and  became  a 
regular  private  secretary,  arranged  everything  systematic- 
ally, kept  track  of  time  and  material  and  for  the  first  time 


74  DOUBLING    BACK 

in  his  business  career  Aretus  knew  exactly  how  much  he 
made  or  lost  on  every  contract. 

That  summer  he  took  a  large  contract  to  move  an  old 
planing  mill  and  rebuild  it  into  a  sash  and  door  factory.  It 
was  to  be  a  branch  to  the  Paine  Lumber  company  of  Osh- 
kosh,  and  the  superintendent's  name  was  P.  W.  Hollister. 
I  became  acquainted  with  Mr.  P.  W.  and  in  a  few  weeks 
he  wanted  a  bookkeeper  and  as  Mr.  Dummville  was  a  stock- 
holder in  the  new  mill,  I  got  the  position  and  at  the  same 
time  did  all  of  Mr.  Dummville 's  bookkeeping  in  half  an 
hour  in  the  evening.  I  was  settled  for  life  and  started  in 
to  learn  the  sash  and  door  business. 

Father  said:  "Set  your  teeth  into  the  rail  of  a  sash 
and  hang  on/'  After  I  had  hung  on  for  eighteen  months 
along  comes  Alonso  Root  and  a  "family  excursion  shop- 
ping card."  He  got  me  terribly  interested  and  gave  me 
the  rights  to  have  them  printed,  etc.,  for  the  State  of  Mich- 
igan if  I  would  manage  it  myself.  I  thought  I  was  going 
to  make  a  fortune  off  of  the  "get-rich-quick  scheme,"  so 
I  got  a  partner  and  went  to  Kalamazoo.  I  did  not  like  it 
and  wished  that  I  was  back  with  my  teeth  in  a  window 
sash.  I  began  to  try  to  accomplish  it.  One  day  in  Lan- 
sing a  young  man  who  was  assisting  me  offered  to  trade 
me  a  farm  in  South  Dakota  for  all  my  rights  and  privil- 
eges. I  took  him  up  quick,  made  the  trade  and  journeyed 
back  to  Marinette,  Aretus,  P.  W.  Hollister  and  my  sweet- 
heart. Upon  my  arrival  I  learned  that  Mr.  Dummville 
had  been  thrown  out  of  a  wagon  and  killed.  P.  W.  Hol- 
lister said  that  I  must  not  expect  to  secure  my  old  situa- 
tion, but  that  if  I  could  sell  goods  enough  to  earn  my 


DOUBLING    BACK  75 

salary  he  would  put  me  on  the  road.  P.  "W.  was  all  right, 
but  he  had  one  peculiar  characteristic.  Whenever  any- 
thing would  break  down  in  the  mill  and  there  was  a  big 
rush  order,  instead  of  getting  angry  and  swearing  he  would 
always  say:  "Well,  well,  well!  Everybody  has  trouble  but 


AND  THE  ACTING  BEE  KEPT  BUMBLING 

P.  W.  and  I  got  along  fine.  I  scooped  competitors  and 
continued  to  more  than  sell  enough  goods  to  earn  my  sal- 
ary, enjoyed  Ella 's  society,  assisted  in  a  great  many  enter- 
tainments and  was  altogether  satisfied  with  life  until  July, 
1890.  At  this  time  I  learned  that  one  of  my  old  school 
chums  at  Hancock,  in  the  Little  Big  Thumb,  was  return- 
ing from  Boston,  where  he  had  been  studying  vocal  music 
for  two  years,  for  a  short  vacation.  I  had  been  working 
pretty  steady  and  P.  W.  said  I  could  have  a  two  weeks' 
vacation.  I  took  advantage  of  it  and  after  visiting  with 
father,  who  was  failing  in  health,  I  landed  in  Hancock  at 
about  the  same  time  as  my  old  chum,  Byron  Eldred  Noble, 
first  tenor  of  the  Apollo  Male  Quartette  of  Boston. 

All  of  the  citizens  of  his  home  town  wanted  to  hear  him 
sing,  and  the  young  men's  club  arranged  for  a  compli- 
mentary concert  and  invited  all  of  the  prominent  people 
throughout  the  two  counties  to  attend.  I  told  the  boys 
that  I  had  often  appeared  as  an  impersonator  on  various 
programs  and  they  put  me  down  for  a  number  and  desig- 
nated it  as  a  "character  sketch."  When  the  printer,  who 


76  DOUBLING    BACK 

was  on  the  committee,  saw  "  character  sketch "  he  called  up 
one  of  the  other  boys  and  upon  talking  it  over  thought  that 
it  was  a  little  bit  "incongruous"  on  such  a  very  classical, 
musical  program.  Therefore  they  came  to  me  and  wanted  to 
take  it  off  altogether.  I  told  them  to  go  and  see  Noble, 
that  he  knew  what  it  was  and  if  he  said  take  it  off  they 
could  scratch  me  out  and  that  I  would  not  be  the  least  bit 
offended. 

They  did  not  "scratch  me,"  and  Noble  told  me  that  all 
he  said  was,  "if  you  scratch  Ed's  name  off  you  can  also 
scratch  mine." 

There  was  nothing  more  said  about  it  until  the  night 
of  the  concert.  It  had  been  arranged  for  me  to  go  on  be- 
tween Part  I  and  Part  II.  "Ed  Meade — Character 
Sketch."  No  one  saw  me,  except  Noble,  until  I, appeared 
upon  the  stage.  There  was  an  ovation  equal  to  that  which 
Noble  himself  had  received.  I  recited  the  "New  Church 
Organ"  in  the  makeup  of  an  old  lady,  and  to  say  that  I 
made  a  hit  is  putting  it  mild,  indeed.  We  could  not  keep' 
the  stage  clear  of  old  schoolmates  and  friends  for  the  re- 
mainder of  the  evening.  A  little  comedy  always  goes  well 
with  so  much  classic  and  it  was  not  so  very  "incongruous" 
after  all. 

Mr.  Noble  congratulated  me  many  times  and  told  me 
that  if  I  ever  made  up  my  mind  to  enter  the  dramatic 
profession  to  come  to  Boston  and  he  could  and  would  help 
me  materially  to  advance  and  would  be  glad  to  do  so. 
Dear  old  chum — he  made  good. 


DOUBLING    BACK  77 


A  DEATH  AND  A  FIRE 

Back  to  the  road  with  sash,  doors  and  building  mate- 
rial until  the  fourth  day  of  August  when  a  telegram  sum- 
moned me  to  the  bedside  of  my  beloved  father,  who  passed 
into  eternity  on  the  8th  of  August,  1890.  After  the 
funeral  I  returned  to  Marinette  and  while  in  the  office 
making  out  my  route,  I  heard  the  fire  alarm  and  every- 
body about  the  plant  got  busy.  There  was  a  strong  wind 
blowing  and  in  spite  of  water  and  men  the  lumber  yard 
and  factory  burned  to  the  ground.  P.  W.  walked  coolly 
up  to  where  I  was  standing  and  remarked:  "Well,  Ed, 
it 's  all  gone.  Everybody  has  trouble  but  me. ' '  I  answered 
with  a  sad  smile,  "Me  too." 

About  this  time  I  received  a  letter  from  Alonso  Boot, 
who  was  in  Oshkosh,  where  he  had  just  completed  the 
building  of  a  shanty  boat  in  which  he  and  his  wife  and  a 
young  man  from  Baltimore  were  about  to  embark  upon  a 
cruise  to  New  Orleans,  combining  the  directory  business 
with  pleasure.  I  wired  and  asked  to  go  part  way  with 
them  and  the  answer  read:  "Yes,  come  quick,  put  your 
bunk  awaits." 

Fate  and  that  fire  forced  me  to  make  up  my  mind  to 
enter  the  dramatic  profession.  I  would  say  good-by  to  my 
sweetheart,  gentle  Mary  Ella,  earn  some  more  money  with 
the  little  shading  pens  and  join  my  old  chum  Noble  in 
Boston. 


78  DOUBLING    BACK 


WILL  YOU  ALWAYS  LOVE  ME  JUST  THE   SAME  AS 
MOTHER  LOVED  MY  DAD? 

(To  my  niece  lonella) 

To  his  sweetheart  in  a  precious  home, 

Near  a  clear  and  laughing  stream; 
Where  the  fir  trees  and  the  myrtles,  too, 

Are  an  everlasting  green; 
Ralph  sings  these  words  to  lone-Ella, 

When  she's  lonely,  gay  or  sad; 
"Will  you  always  love  me  just  the  same 

As  mother  loved  my  dad?" 

Will  you   always  love  me  just  the  same 

As  mother  loved  my  dad? 
Do  you  listen  to  my  loving  song? 

And  is  your  dear  heart  glad? 
And  I  often  hear  you  singing 

To  your  loving,  trusting  lad, 
"Yes,  I'll  always  love  you  just  the  same 

As  mother  loved  my  dad." 

There's  our  baby  that  has  linked  two  lives 

Together  strong  and  true; 
Soon  little  Lyndell  will  be  singing 

Loving  songs  like  me  and  you. 
Therefore  we  must  teach  our  darling, 

How  to  tell  the  good  from  bad. 
lone-Ella  loves  me  just  the  same 

As  mother  loved  my  dad. 


DOUBLING    BACK  79 


SHANTY  BOAT  SAILING 

There  are  three  water  routes  from  Lake  Michigan  to 
the  sea,  and  I  sailed  over  one  of  them,  from  Oshkosh,  Wis- 
consin, to  Memphis,  Tennessee.  You  can  leave  Lake  Mich- 
igan .at  Green  Bay,  go  up  Fox  River  and  reach  Lake  Win- 
nebago,  then  up  the  Wolf  River  from  Oshkosh  to  Lake 
Beautsdesmorts,  across  this  lake  and  you  are  at  the  Wau- 
paca  River,  up  the  Waupaca  to  Buffalo  Lake,  through  a 
home-made  canal  into  Mud  Lake,  up  Portage  Creek  to  the 
town  of  Portage,  Wisconsin,  through  another  miniature 
"Panama"  and  you  are  in  the  picturesque  Wisconsin 
River.  The  current  took  our  shanty  boat  around  a  large 
rock  and  we  started  for  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  via  the  Missis- 
sippi, while  some  of  the  water  from  the  Wisconsin  that 
whirled  around  that  same  rock  at  Portage,  traveled 
through  the  little  "Panama"  and  in  time  reached  the 
Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence.  Thus  two  steamers  could  separate 
at  Portage,  Wisconsin,  travel  in  opposite  directions  and 
meet  at  any  seaport  in  the  world. 

I  had  a  grand  time  and  it  would  make  a  long  story  to 
tell  of  fishing  traps,  wild  fowl  shooting,  eating  "twenty- 
four  blackbirds  baked  in  a  pie ' '  and  one  baked  in  a  potato. 
(Blackbirds  in  a  spud,  properly  seasoned!  Try  one  some 
time  when  you  are  out  camping.) 


DOUBLING    BACK 


A  CANVAS  HK)RSB 

We  floated  down  the  picturesque  and  beautiful  Wis- 
consin River  to  where  it  joins  the  great  Mississippi.  Here 
we  were  obliged  to  use  our  big  sixteen  foot  oars  constantly 
and  we  worked  like  galley  slaves,  but  could  not  keep  our 
boat  away  from  the  banks  when  the  wind  was  blowing 
east  or  west.  The  boat  was  very  light  and  built  of  choice 
yellow  pine  and  was  about  thirty  feet  long.  We  saw  that 
it  would  be  necessary  to  have  power  of  some  kind  or  we 
would  be  tied  up  to  the  bank  nearly  all  the  time.  Neces- 
sity is  the  mother  of  invention.  We  put  our  heads  to- 
gether and  built  a  canvas  horse  and  were  often  seen  by 
jealous  shanty  boatmen  reading  a  newspaper  and  floating 
gently  down  the  stream. 

We  harnessed  the  current  of  the  "Father  of  Waters" 
and  could  glide  along  in  the  main  channel  if  a  cyclone 
were  blowing,  and  not  have  to  exert  ourselves  in  the  least. 
It  was  the  only  horse  of  the  kind  that  I  ever  saw,  very 
powerful  and  very  gentle. 

We  used  five  yards  of  canvas,  five  feet  wide,  eight 
wooden  pulleys  and  about  one  hundred  feet  of  rope.  A 
four-inch  wooden  cylinder,  sixteen  feet  long,  was  sewed 
into  a  pocket  of  the  canvas  in  order  to  act  as-  a  backbone 
and  a  float.  A  one-inch  iron  rod  was  sewed  into  another 
pocket  at  the  opposite  edge  of  the  canvas  and  acted  as  the 
feet;  then  a  pulley  at  each  corner  of  the  canvas  and  the 
other  four  pulleys  were  fastened  in  a  bunch  in  the  center 
of  the  bow  of  the  boat,  and  we  drove  the  animal  with  four 
lines.  When  we  desired  to  ' ' hard  a  port"  we  slackened  the 


DOUBLING    BACK  81 

two  lines  at  starboard  and  tightened  on  the  port  and  vice 
versa  for  starboard;  then  if  we  wished  to  stop  we  would 
slacken  the  two  lines  that  controlled  the  two  lower  corners 
and  the  horse  would  then  float  gently  on  the  surface  of  the 
stream.  Talk  about  power — it  was  greater  than  a  twenty- 
mule  team. 

Some  jealous  shanty  boatman,  who  saw  us  floating 
along  down  stream  while  he  was  tied  up  to  the  shore  on 
account  of  the  wind,  reported  us  to  the  authorities  at  Keo- 
kuk,  Iowa,  and  one  of  Uncle  Sam's  inspectors  called  upon 
us  and  stated  that  he  wished  to  see  what  kind  of  a  pro- 
peller we  used  as  he  had  been  informed  that  we  had  steam 
power  and  an  engine  of  some  kind  on  board,  and  must 
have  the  necessary  government  papers,  which  he  would 
also  like  to  examine. 

We  told  him  that  our  power  was  in  the  current  of  the 
river  and  that  we  utilized  this  current  in  connection  with 
a  horse,  and  if  he  had  time  we  would  be  delighted  to  take 
him  for  a  short  drive  across  the  river  and  back,  agreeing 
to  land  him  safe  and  sound  at  the  lower  outskirts  of  the 
city.  He  agreed  and  we  hooked  up  the  horse,  pushed  the 
boat  away  from  the  dock,  sank  the  powerful  brute  in  to 
the  river,  tightened  the  port  lines,  slacked  gently  on  the 
starboard  and  away  we  went  for  the  Illinois  shore  with 
the  wind  in  our  teeth. 

The  gentleman  thanked  us  and  said  it  was  the  greatest 
invention  of  the  kind  that  he  had  ever  seen  and  it  would 
not  be  necessary  for  us  to  have  any  government  papers 
to  sail  our  craft  upon  the  waters  of  the  Mississippi.  He 
reported  us  to  the  editors  and  they  and  many  others  not 


82  DOUBLING    BACK 

only  called  upon  us  but  gave  our  little  floating  palace  a 
big  write-up,  praised  our  ingenuity  and  wished  us  a  pleas- 
ant cruise  to  the  sea  with  our  now  famous  canvas  horse. 


BOSTON  AND  THE  BUMBLING  ACTING  BEE 

Upon  our  arrival  at  Memphis  I  bid  good-by  to  canvas 
horse,  Alonso,  his  wife  and  Bill,  also  the  shanty  boat  Rus- 
tler, and  journeyed  to  Boston  via  Sandwich,  Chicago,  Port 
Huron,  Montreal,  across  the  St.  Lawrence  River  through 
New  Hampshire  and  Vermont,  arriving  in  the  historical 
and  cultured  city  January  1,  1891. 

Boston  was  a  disappointment  and  a  pleasure.  Every- 
thing was  smaller  than  what  I  had  imagined  it  would  be, 
from  all  that  I  had  heard  about  it.  The  streets  were  nar- 
rower, the  buildings  less  pretentious  and  everything  seemed 
to  be  old  fashioned  and  moldy.  I  studied  elocution,  dra- 
matic art,  voice  culture  and  mastered  a  complete  set  of 
gestures,  in  fact,  I  became  an  impersonator  and  the  actor 
bee  gathered  some  honey,  because  I  appeared  profession- 
ally with  quartettes  and  concert  companies  as  a  reader 
and  entertainer.  

BILL  NYE 

I  laughed  at  the  cartoons  (McDougal's)  of  Bill  Nye, 
sized  up  my  form  and  face  and  made  up  mind  that  I  could 
make  myself  look  exactly  like  those  cartoons.  I  got  into 
correspondence  with  Mr.  Nye  through  a  member  of  the 
staff  on  the  Boston  Herald  and  received  the  following  let- 


DOUBLING    BACK 


83 


ter,  giving  me  permission  to  impersonate  this  very  dry, 
sarcastic,  serio-comical  character: 

11  BUCK  SHOALS,  N.  C.,  July  20,  1891. 
MR.  EDWARDS  H.  MEADE, 

Boston,  Mass. 
Dear  Sir: 

You're  welcome  to  do  it  if  you'll  do  it  well — that's  all 
the  condition  I  ask.  It  has  been  tried  by  several  and  your 
success  will  depend  upon  your  ability  to  knock  out  all 
rivals. 

Hope  to  see  and  hear  you  sometime — let  me  know  if 
you  are  near. 


Yours  truly, 


I  made  good  and  knocked 
out  some  rivals,  received 
flattering  press  notices  from 
some  of  the  most  famous 
journals  in  the  United 
States,  including  the  Boston 
Herald,  New  York  World, 
Detroit  Free  Press,  etc.,  etc. 
Afterwards  I  met  Mr.  Nye 
and  corresponded  with  him 
to  some  extent  until  his 
death  and  came  very  near 
"  starring"  in  the  play, 
"The  Cadi,"  which  would 
have  resulted  in  making  Bill 
quite  famous,  but  at  the 


E.W.  NYE." 


"BILL  NYE'E    EHDST 


84  DOUBLING    BACK 

time  I  lacked  the  dramatic  experience,  although  I  had 
the  right  shape  and  the  ambition,  but  was  short  on  fame 
and  pull. 

Bill  wrote  me  one  time  that  he  was  engaged  in  writing 
a  comic  history  of  the  United  States  in  which  he  intended 
to  give  Christopher  Columbus  and  Opper,  the  artist,  good 
reading  notices. 


EDGAR  NYE 
EDGAR  POE 

Two  famous  literary  geniuses  figured  directly  and  in- 
directly throughout  my  career  as  an  impersonator;  comic 
stories  from  the  pen  of  Edgar  Wilson  Nye,  directly,  and 
the  following  satire  on  "The  Raven " — Edgar  Allen  Poe, 
indirectly.  I  have  received  many  requests  for  a  copy  of 
this  satire,  which  I  recited  in  the  character  of  a  tipsy 
young  man,  with  great  success: 


THE  RAVEN 

(A  Satire-Smaley) 

How  distinctly  I  remember, 

Late  one  evening  last  November, 

I  was  sitting  on  a  barrel, 

That  the  moonlight  gloated  o'er- 

'Twas  an  empty  cider  barrel, 
And  it's  useful  now  no  more — 

Worthless  now  forever  more. 


DOUBLING    BACK  85 

While  a  few  lone  stars  were  blinking, 
I  betook  myself  to  thinking, 

And  I  thought  of  that  old  raven — 
Mr.  Poe  has  told  about — 

That  was  quite  a  high  old  raven- 
Mr.  Poe  has  told  about. 

The  stars  kept  blinking,  blinking,  blinking, 
I  kept  thinking,  thinking,  thinking; 

And  the  more  I  thought  about  it— 

I  was  more  and  more  in  doubt — 
Edgar's  logic  knocked  me  out. 

Here's  the  lamp  upon  the  table, 
And  the  raven  on  the  door, 

And  the  lamplight  o'er  him  streaming 
Threw  his  shadow  on  the  floor. 

Think  of  where  that  lamp  was  sitting, 
And  you  cannot  help  admitting — 

'Twas  an  awful  crooked  shadow, 
If  it  ever  reached  the  floor — 

'Twas  a  humpback,  cross-eyed  shadow, 
If  it  ever  reached  the  floor. 

So  I  thought  a  clear  solution, 
To  that  shadow's  dire  confusion, 

And  my  only  strong  conclusion 
Was,  that  Edgar  had  the  snakes; 

I  am  sure  he  had  been  drinking 
And  he  must  have  had  the  snakes. 

So,  perhaps  the  raven,  sitting 
On  the  cornice,  never  flitting, 

With  his  fiery  eye  a  burning 


86  DOUBLING    BACK 

Into  Edgar's  bosom  core- 
Was  the  whisky  he'd  been  drinking, 

Just  before  he  fell  to  thinking 
Of  his  lively  lost  Lenore— 

It  was  bug- juice  ever  more. 

So— perhaps  the  maiden,  deeming 
Such  a  fellow  too  bemeaning, 

Had  preferred  to  share  the  fortune 
Of  her  friends— who'd  gone  before— 

And  had  perished,  broken  hearted, 
As  fair  maids  had  done  before; 

Maybe  he  disgraced  and  slighted, 
'Till  she  felt  her  life  was  blighted— 

And  her  lonely  soul  benighted, 
Wandered  to  a  fairer  shore- 
Maybe  Edgar's   drinking  killed  her, 
As  it  has  killed  girls  before— 

It  was  whisky,  nothing  more. 

You  get  most  anybody  frisky, 

On  a  quart  or  two  of  whisky, 
And  he'd  think  he  saw  some  lamps— 

And  some  tables— and  some  floors— 
And  the  lights  would  get  befuddled, 

And  the  shadows  awful  muddled — 
And  he'd  see  a  crazy  raven 

Perched  on  forty-eleven  doors— 
And  he  wouldn't  know  a  shutter 

From  a  dozen  lost  Lenores. 

It  is  my  profound  opinion, 
fc-i •';..  That  if  Poe  had  kept  dominion, 


DOUBLING    BACK  87 

O'er  his  mind  and  o'er  his  reason, 

As  it  used  to  be  of  yore — 
That  if  he  had  been  less  frisky, 

And  had  guzzled  down  less  whisky, 
He'd  have  never  seen  that  raven, 

On  a  bust  above  his  door- 
Very  likely  that  same  evening 

He'd  been  on  a  bust  before, 
And  got  sober— never  more. 


I  BECOME  A  ONE  MAN  SHOW 

I  remained  in  Boston  until  April,  1892,  filling  numer- 
ous engagements  through,  the  lyceum  bureaus  and  made 
the  mistake  of  my  career  when  I  left  that  city  and  the 
lyceum  work. 

I  visited  my  grandparents*  native  home  in  Duchess  and 
Putnam  Counties,  on  the  east  side  of  the  Hudson  River, 
near  Poughkeepsie,  New  York.  While  there  I  gave  an 
entertainment  in  the  little  village,  so  that  all  of  the  Hoags, 
Pecks,  Judds,  Ganungs  and  many  that  I  had  never  seen 
could  see  "their  Cousin  Eddie  perform."  It  was  quite  a 
success  and  from  that  experience  I  became  a  one-man 
show.  I  made  my  own  dates,  was  advance  agent,  bill  pos- 
ter, property  man,  doorkeeper  and  show.  But  the  strain 
was  too  great.  I  traveled  as  far  as  Detroit,  with  an  occa- 
sional walk  on  the  ties,  while  my  trunk  was  checked 
through  the  kindness  of  the  baggage  man,  without  a  ticket. 
In  Detroit  I  found  my  friend,  Alonso  Root.  I  made  the 
city  a  very  short  visit.  I  did  not  get  time  to  mix  up  in 


88  DOUBLING    BACK 

any  more  of  Mr.  Boot's  advertising  schemes.  But  I  had 
the  good  fortune  to  meet  Julian  Jordan,  author  of  "The 
Song  That  Reached  My  Heart."  He  was  much  pleased 
with  my  work — we  happened  to  be  on  the  same  program 
at  a  Y.  M.  C.  A.  concert.  He  asked  me  to  accompany  him 
to  his  home  at  Mount  Vernon,  New  York,  and  join  hands 
with  him  for  the  summer,  in  giving  entertainments  in  the 
parlors  of  the  large  hotels  at  Newport,  and  the  various 
resorts  in  and  about  New  York  City  and  the  Atlantic  coast. 
I  accepted,  saying  good-by  to  Alonso  forever. 


"THE  SONG  THAT  REACHED  MY  HEART" 

I  could  not  sing  the  song  but  Julian  could.  I  have 
seen  him  enter  the  parlors  of  one  of  the  large  hotels  and 
commence  to  sing  that  song.  In  a  very  few  moments 
there  would  be  several  hundred  people  thronging  the  open 
windows  and  doors,  on  a  balmy  summer  eve.  He  would 
sing  several  songs,  then  Professor  Meade  would  spiel  a 
little  "Bill  Nye"  or  a  "Raven,"  a  little  more  of  Julian's 
silver  tenor  and  after  about  five  numbers  we  would  take 
up  a  collection.  Some  times  it  would  amount  to  a  goodly 
sum.  It  was  not  unusual  to  find  a  five  dollar  bill  buried 
in  silver.  "We  did  well.  Mr.  Jordan  was  quite  famous  at 
that  time  and  this  same  song  was  being  sung  at  Manhattan 
Beach  every  day  by  Miss  Ida  Klein,  with  Gilmore's  band. 
Therefore,  whenever  Mr.  Jordan  entered  a  hotel  and 
presented  his  card  to  the  manager,  everything  the  house 
afforded  was  ours  for  twenty-four  hours.  I  certainly  en- 
joyed myself  seashore  resorting. 


DOUBLING    BACK  89 

In  the  meantime  Sol  Smith  Russell  and  Alba  Hfeywood 
were  putting  out  "  Edge  wood  Folks."  Alba  had  promised 
me  the  part  of  "Skinner,"  a  village  Yankee  character 
part,  and  wanted  me  to  make  up  like  Bill  Nye.  He  sent 
me  a  letter  of  introduction  to  Mr.  Russell.  I  called  upon 
that  gentleman  and  received  many  pointers  regarding  the 
part  and  he  thought  the  make-up  would  be  appropriate 
and  an  improvement.  I  received  the  part,  but  alas!  my 
time  hadn't  come.  Mr.  Jordan  had  entered  into  an  agree- 
ment with  Major  Pond's  lyceum  bureau  to  book  the  Julian 
Jordan  Concerts,  and  had  included  me  in  the  arrange- 
ment. I  cancelled  my  contract  with  Mr.  Heywood  and 
returned  that  first  part  with  some  regrets. 

Some  member  of  Mr.  Jordan's  family  was  taken  very 
sick  and  the  Jordan  concerts  did  not  materialize.  Pond 
was  out,  Jordan  was  out  and  I  was  out.  Jordan  signed 
up  with  Primrose  and  West  as  a  ballad  singer.  He  se- 
cured an  advance  agent  for  me,  and  after  two  weeks  as  a 
one-man  show,  with  an  agent  that  was  better  at  gambling 
than  he  was  at  rustling,  I  landed  at  my  Uncle  Elizer's 
farm,  in  Putnam  County,  New  York,  broke. 


UNCLE  ELEZERr-LOAN  AGENT 

Uncle  Elezer  Henry  Ganung  was  very  fat,  very  rich 
and  very  economical.  It  was  winter.  I  was  eating  an 
apple  and  sitting  beside  the  kitchen  stove  amusing  uncle. 
I  finished  the  apple  and  threw  the  core  into  the  stove. 
Uncle  said:  "Don't  do  that  any  more.  There's  a  swill 
bucket  just  outside  and  that  core  is  good  for  the  hogs." 


90 


DOUBLING    BACK 


I  had  answered  an  advertisment  that  I  saw  in  the  New 
York  Clipper:  " Wanted — A  neat  comedian.  Oakes  Swiss 
Bell  Ringers. ' '  I  sent  photos,  press  notices  etc.,  with  my  ap- 
plication and  in  about  ten  days  I  received  a  wire  to  join  them 
at  once  at  Verndale,  Minnesota.  I  had  no  money,  but  after 
a  long  consultation  with  uncle  he  loaned  me  fifty  dollars, 
took  my  note,  interest  four  per  cent,  and  said:  "My  boy, 
you  have  given  me  a  good  many  hearty  laughs,  in  my  old 
age,  and  if  you  was  under  age  I'll  be  gol  darned  if  I 
wouldn't  adopt  and  keep  ye  here  till  I  died,  jest  fer  to 
'muse  me.  Here's  the  money.  Be  sure  to  send  it  back 
when  yer  gets  it." 

I  said  good-by  and  journeyed  to  Verndale,  in  the  north- 
ern part  of  Minnesota,  and 
joined  my  first  show  in  four 
feet  of  snow  and  the  ther- 
mometer at  twenty-five  be- 
low zero,  January,  1893. 
Heretofore  it  had  been  se- 
lect, refined  and  cultured 
audiences  in  the  lyceum 
work,  while  now  it  was  to  be 
mixed  audiences  and  a  real 
show  in  the  west,  where  the 
man  who  can  turn  flip-flops 
on  a  barb  wire  and  juggle 
butcher  knives  at  the  same 
time,  makes  the  biggest  hit. 


UNCLE  ELEZER'B  LORN 


DOUBLING    BACK  91 


SOME  COLD 

"Some  cold,"  said  the  little  koster  singing  comedian, 
who  met  me  at  the  train,  10:30  p.  m.,  after  my  eighty 
hour  ride  from  New  York.  He  introduced  himself  and 
escorted  me  to  the  town  hall.  * '  Some  cold, ' '  said  he  again, 
and  he  put  a  lighted  cigar  in  his  overcoat  pocket,  uncon- 
sciously, and  threw  the  overcoat  on  a  chair  before  intro- 
ducing me  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Oakes,  their  daughter,  and 
other  members  of  the  bell  ringing  troupe.  "Some  cold," 
he  said,  and  he  started  to  help  pack  up  and  discovered 
that  his  overcoat  was  on  fire.  "We  had  a  good  laugh  at  the 
little  Englishman's  expense  and  I  soon  became  acquainted 
with  the  merry  troupe,  which  consisted  of  seven  persons 
and  an  advance  agent — bell  ringers,  crystal  chimes,  harpist, 
four  comedians,  with  the  grand  concert  harp  and  a  flute 
for  an  orchestra.  The  program  was  an  oleo  of  specialties 
and  closed  with  a  farce,  in  which  I  played  my  first  part — 
professionally.  I  learned  to  shoot  myself  in  a  looking 
glass,  ring  swiss  bells  and  do  two  good  turns  to  the  satis- 
faction of  the  boss,  who  told  me  they  played  everything 
from  schoolhouse  to  city. 

The  third  night  that  I  was  with  the  show  we  played 
to  a  chilly  house.  It  had  been  a  skating  rink.  There  was 
one  large  stove  in  the  center  of  it  and  a  small  stove  in  the 
ladies'  dressing  room  ( ?).  The  audience  assembled  around 
the  stove,  which  they  kept  red  hot,  while  we  gave  a  show 
with  frost  on  our  eyebrows  and  icicles  on  our  chins.  After 
the  show  Nat  Blossom,  the  old  time  Coal  Oil  Johnny  mill- 


92  DOUBLING    BACK 

strel,  song-and-dance-man,  pulled  off  his  undershirt,  and 
after  breaking  the  ice  on  the  bucket  with  a  hammer,  started 
to  wash  up,  and  remarked  that  in  all  of  his  forty  years' 
experience  as  a  black-face  comedian  he  never  caught  cold 
if  he  used  cold  water.  I  thought  quite  a  while  and  finally 
said :  ' '  That  water  must  be  l  some  cold. ; 


y  tt 


THE  ADVANCE  AGENT 

A.  G.  Allen  was  a  hustling  agent,  tall,  all  bone  and  sinew, 
square- jawed,  long  skirt-tailed  overcoat,  silk  hat  and  ear- 
mufflers.  Each  man  with  the  show  was  obliged  to  wear 
black  clothes  and  a  silk  hat.  It  was  in  the  contract  and  gave 
the  show  a  distinguished  and  genteel  appearance.  But  A.  G. 
did  not  look  just  right.  He  had  been  educated  for  a  minis- 
ter, but  turned  out  to  be  a  Barnum.  Mr.  Oakes  found  him 
in  a  little  coal  mining  town  in  Colorado  and  taught  him  the 


Oakes  organized  his  little  show  in  1877  and  was  some- 
what old-fashioned,  but  he  got  the  money  and  Allen  was  a 
hustler  and  lay  awake  nights  trying  to  figure  out  some 
odd  place  to  stick  up  a  three-sheet.  One  time  he  was  com- 
pelled to  lay  over  in  some  town  on  a  branch  line  on  account 
of  snow  blockades  and  blizzards.  The  one-night  bell  ringers 
were  getting  close.  He  could  not  get  a  driver  with  a  team 
to  venture  out  for  love  or  money,  and  it  was  twenty  miles 
to  the  junction  of  the  main  line,  where  the  trains  were 
running  on  time.  He  took  a  bundle  of  paper,  strapped  it 
on  his  back,  walked  the  twenty  miles  along  the  railroad 


DOUBLING    BACK  93 

track,  using  the  telegraph  poles  for  guide  posts.  Skirt- 
tailed  overcoat  flying,  ear-nraffers,  silk  hat  and  mittens, 
with  twenty-dollar  gold  pieces  jingling  in  his  pockets,  he 
reached  the  main  line  and  the  show  never  did  catch  up  with 
him.  __ — 

SLEEPING   IN   THE    SNOW 

About  this  time  the  bell  ringers  themselves  were  having 
some  blizzard  experiences.  "We  were  billed  for  Watertown, 
North  Dakota,  and  were  at  a  town  about  twenty  miles  east, 
with  the  train  stalled  in  heavy  snow.  There  had  been  a 
slight  thaw,  then  a  cold  wave,  which  had  formed  a  hard 
crust  upon  the  snow,  before  the  tracks  were  cleared  from  the 
last  big  storm,  so  we  would  be  delayed  at  this  point  for  sev- 
eral hours. 

The  depot  agent  suggested  that  we  drive  fourteen  miles 
to  Clear  Lake,  which  was  on  the  "Q"  and  we  would  then 
reach  Watertown  from  the  south  and  be  there  in  time  to 
show. 

Oakes  engaged  two  teams  with  sleighs,  and  with  the  sun 
shining  we  glided  over  the  frozen  snow,  happy  as  clams, 
while  the  sleighbells,  chains  and  harness  jingled  gloriously. 
Six  miles  out  clouds  appeared  and  the  beautiful  snow  began 
to  fall.  The  wind  got  busy  and  inside  of  thirty  minutes  we 
were  in  a  Dakota  blizzard. 

The  driver  was  an  old-timer.  He  unhooked  the  teams, 
unloaded  the  passengers,  made  all  hands  get  busy  and  dig  a 
hole  in  the  snow,  fill  it  with  the  straw  and  robes  from  the 
sleigh,  forced  all  of  us  into  it,  then  he  and  his  partner  turned 
tEe  sleigh  box  over  us,  at  the  same  time  telling  us  to  remain 


94 


DOUBLING    BACK 


there  until  the  storm  passed,  if  we  valued  our  lives.  He 
said  he  would  get  the  horses  to  Tredegow's  farm  two  miles 
distant;  that  it  was  impossible  for  us  to  walk  there  in  the 
storm  and  heavy  snow. 

We  remained  there  twenty-three  hours  before  the  storm 
passed.  Then  the  other  driver,  who  had  stayed  with  us, 
crawled  out  and  brought  us  the  glad  news  that  he  could  see 
Bill  a  comin  '  with  a  sleigh  and  four  horses.  Until  that  mo- 
ment we  did  not  know  whether  we  would  be  dug  out  that 
morning  or  some  time  next  spring.  However,  they  took  us 
to  the  farmhouse,  rubbed  us  down,  warmed  us  up,  fed  us 
good  and  made  us  remain  there  until  the  next  morning; 
then  we  went  back  to  our  outfit  and  in  a  few  hours  we  were 
in  Clear  Lake,  a  county  seat,  where  they  were  holding  court. 

Mr.  Oakes  could  only  get 
one  room  at  the  hotel,  so  the 
balance  of  the  troupe  slept 
in  the  town  hall  on  the  floor 
around  a  hot  stove.  Al- 
though it  reminded  us  of 
the  snow  berth,  it  was  some 
improvement.  We  stood  it 
for  two  nights,  showing 
there  each  night  without 
billing;  then  we  made  a 
jump  and  were  back  upon 
our  regular  route,  none  the 
worse  from  our  blizzard- 
town  -  hall  -  hard  -  floor  -  sleigh- 
riding  experiences., 

HERE  COMES   BILL"- 


DOUBLING    BACK  95 

THE  WORLD'S  FAIR  AND  BACK 

(1893.) 

Mr.  Oakes  closed  his  show  for  two  weeks,  after  July  the 
Fourth,  and  we  all  went  to  the  World's  fair  in  Chicago.  I 
met  lots  of  relatives,  friends,  neighbors  and  schoolmates. 
I  saw  machinery,  curiosities,  exhibits,  whaleback  steamers, 
the  Midway,  forty  beautiful  women  of  all  nations,  Buffalo 
Bill,  "America"  at  the  Auditorium,  "1492"  and  many 
brass  bands.  Speaking  of  brass  bands,  three  of  the  Hey- 
wood  boys  were  playing  in  the  Iowa  State  band,  the  ones 
whom  I  had  seen  at  the  little  farm,  with  bare  feet  and  cheeks 
of  tan.  They  invited  me  to  stay  at  their  cottage,  near  the 
grounds,  which  I  did.  Every  day  they  fitted  me  out  with  a 
uniform  coat  and  cap ;  also  a  brass  horn  of  some  kind  and 
I  would  pass  into  the  grounds  with  them,  deposit  the 
instrument  in  the  bandstand,  then  I  paraded  the  grounds 
and  took  in  the  big  shows.  Many  people  took  me  for  an 
official  and  I  was  obliged  to  become  posted  on  the  location 
of  certain  exhibits  in  order  to  answer  questions.  One  old 
gentleman  wanted  to  know  what  "an  exit"  was;  said  he 
had  been  in  and  out  of  the  grounds  several  times  and  had 
to  pay  every  time  to  get  back  and  that  he  couldn't  find 
' '  a  exit ' ' — where  them  signs  read  ' '  exit. ' ' 

The  Oakes  Bell  Ringers  reopened  the  season  at  Clinton, 
Illinois;  crossed  the  river  to  Iowa,  and  played  three  hun- 
dred and  fifty  towns  in  that  state,  and  only  crossed  the 
state  line  into  Missouri  once  and  that  was  a  warm  day 
in  April. 


96  DOUBLING    BACK 


WHILE  THE  SILVER  BELLS  WERE  RINGING 

'Twas  a  warm  day  in  April.  Iowa  was  dry,  so  we 
crossed  the  state  line  to  a  wet  town  in  Missouri.  We  were 
a  temperate  troupe,  but  that  cool  Bock  beer  on  the  first 
real  warm  day  in  April  was  refreshing.  Oakes  invited 
us  in  to  have  a  drink  several  times  during  the  afternoon, 
and  would  always  say  to  the  bartender:  "Give  us  five 
beers,"  without  asking  what  we  would  have  and  he  must 
have  taken  a  good  many  beers  by  himself  when  we  did  not 
see  him,  because  when  it  came  show  time  he  was  a  little 
bit  unsteady  and  when  we  began  to  play  the  opening  over- 
ture on  the  bells,  Oakes,  who  played  the  heavy  bass  bells, 
at  the  extreme  left,  could  not  grip  them  firmly  with  his 
left  hand  and  every  time  he  would  lift  a  bell,  just  as  he 
made  the  hammer  strike,  the  bell  would  go  ringing  on 
to  the  floor  off  the  stage  to  the  left  and  it  kept  one  of  the 
boys,  who  was  dressing,  pretty  busy  handing  the  bells  back 
to  the  table  from  behind  a  wing.  Every  day,  for  the  bal- 
ance of  the  season  you  would  often  hear  some  one  singing : 
"While  the  silver  bells  were  ringing  Oakes  would  throw 
them  on  the  floor." 


OUR  BAGGAGE  DID  NOT  BURN 

We  went  back  to  Iowa  the  next  day  to  a  town  that  was 
at  the  end  of  a  branch  line.  We  were  very  proud  of  our 
baggage.  It  was  all  white  with  jet  black  trimmings.  Each 
trunk  was  the  same  size  and  with  nine  of  these  and  the 


DOUBLING    BACK  97 

big  harp  case  they  made  a  big  ad  for  the  Oakes  Bell  Ringers 
and  the  Taylor  Trunk  Works. 

"We  played  in  the  town  hall  at  this  town,  and  were 
obliged  to  take  the  train  at  five  o'clock  the  next  morning. 
So  we  secured  the  key  from  the  caretaker,  who  bid  us 
good-night  and  left  us  to  pack  up  and  put  out  the  lights. 
There  was  a  large  pair  of  heavy  doors  at  the  foot  of  the 
stairs  and  the  baggage  had  to  be  taken  out  the  front  way. 
Therefore  we  got  it  all  ready  so  that  the  baggage  man 
would  have  no  trouble  in  the  morning.  "We  took  pains  to 
fasten  the  double  doors  with  the  iron  bar.  We  slid  a 
trunk  downstairs  on  the  plank  which  they  had  for  the  pur- 
pose, and  let  the  trunk  rest  against  the  doors  at  the  bot- 
tom and  so  on  until  we  had  the  nine  trunks,  each  one 
resting  against  the  other,  clear  to  the  top  of  the  stairs 
in  a  straight  line.  We  put  out  the  lights  and  left  the 
building  by  the  little  back  stairway  on  the  outside  of  the 
same. 

At  about  2  A.  M.  we  were  awakened  by  the  night  clerk 
with  an  alarm  of  fire  and  he  said  he  thought  it  was  the 
town  hall.  Out  we  hustled,  but  Oakes  was  ahead  of  us 
by  four  minutes.  He  rushed  up  the  back  stairs,  ran  to 
tne  front  of  the  house,  pulled  that  top  trunk  to  one  side 
.and  sent  it  down  the  stairway.  It  smashed  those  double 
doors  to  splinters  and  the  comedians  arrived  just  in  time 
to  see  that  beautiful  bunch  of  trunks  glide  gracefully  out 
upon  the  sidewalk  and  at  the  same  time  discovered  that 
the  fire  was  just  around  the  corner. 

The  drayman  came  and  we  were  soon  out  of  town  and  I 
never  did  find  out  who  paid  for  that  pair  of  splintered 
doors. 


98  DOUBLING  BACK 


OAKES  BUYS  A  CARPET 

We  always  stopped  at  the  best  hotels  and  Oakes  paid 
the  bills.  One  morning  a  landlord  told  him  that  he  would 
have  to  pay  ten  dollars  for  <a  carpet  which  his  daughter's 
pug  dog  had  ruined.  Oakes  had  paid  dog  damages  on 
carpets  before.  He  said:  "I'll  take  the  carpet  and  pay 
you  the  difference — sixteen  yards,  ninety  cents  a  yard, 
fourteen  dollars  and  forty  cents."  He  made  the  landlord 
take  up  the  carpet,  pack  it  down  stairs  and  place  it  on 
the  transfer  wagon.  The  landlady  was  in  an  awful  tem- 
per and  the  landlord  was  worse,  while  perspiration  and 
curses  were  mingled  with  shouts  of  laughter,  as  we  rode 
away  in  the  bus  toward  the  station, — carpet,  dog  and  all. 


NELLIE  BROWN  OF  OTTUMWA  TOWN 

How  could  you  do  it?  How  could  you  be  so  cruel? 
You!  You!  You!  Break  up  a  whole  family!  Oh!  Oh!  Oh! 

That  what  I  innocently  and  ignorantly  did — broke 
up  a  love  match,  separated  father  and  mother,  the  girl  ran 
away,  the  lover  came  near  going  to  the  pen,  the  home  was 
sold  at  auction  and  little  children  cried  dreadfully,  and 
it  was  all  caused  by  a  man  that  had  more  curiosity  than 
a  woman.  That  man  was  not  I,  and  although  I  was  indi- 
rectly guilty  yet  I  was  innocent. 

It  was  in  a  little  town  near  Ottumwa,  Iowa.  The  hotel 
was  very  bad  and  we  went  to  a  private  boarding  house 
that  was  kept  by  a  widow  and  her  daughter,  the  place 


DOUBLING    BACK  9S 

having  been  highly  recommended.  The  lady  received  us, 
introduced  us  to  her  daughter  and  a  Miss  Nellie  Brown, 
who  was  visiting  from  Ottumwa,  for  a  few  days. 

Mr.  Blossom  and  I  spent  a  very  pleasant  afternoon 
with  the  young  ladies  and  the  landlady  with  piano,  books 
and  cards.  We  helped  them  to  wash  and  wipe  the  supper 
dishes  and  through  Mr.  Oakes  secured  complimentary 
tickets  for  three  to  the  show.  After  the  performance  they 
waited  for  us  and  we  all  walked  home  together  and  the 
landlady  gave  us  a  little  lunch  and  told  us  that  Miss 
Nellie  was  engaged  to  marry  Mr.  John  Stover,  a  postoffice 
clerk,  at  Ottumwa.  "We  joked  Miss  Nellie  about  "her 
John"  and  told  her  that  he  might  not  like  the  way  she 
was  cutting  up  with  "us  actor  folks."  We  said  good- 
night and  left  the  next  morning  before  Miss  Brown  had 
breakfast. 

Some  three  or  four  days  afterward  I  was  at  the  depot 
when  the  eastbound  train  arrived  and  heard  some  one  say, 
*"  Howdy-do,  Mr.  Meade."  I  looked  toward  the  train  and 
saw  some  one  waving  her  hand  at  me.  At  first  I  could 
not  imagine  who  it  could  be ;  then  I  recognized  Miss  Nellie 
Brown.  She  said  that  she  was  on  her  way  home ;  the  con- 
ductor called,  "All  aboard,"  we  said  good-by,  shook 
hands  and  I  remarked  that  I  might  write  her  a  letter  some 
time,  and  she  said,  "All  right,  do." 

When  I  got  back  to  the  hotel  I  sat  down  and  wrote 
her  a  little  note  and  about  all  I  said  was  that  I  forgot  to 
tell  her  at  the  depot  to  give  my  regards  to  John.  I  ad- 
dressed the  envelope  with  a  shading  pen  and  forgot  all 
about  the  matter. 


100 


DOUBLING    BACK 


Two  months  afterwards  I  met  a  gentleman  from  Ot- 
tumwa  and  naturally  asked  him  if  he  knew  Miss  Nellie 
Brown — and  he  told  me  this  story: 

11  Nellie  met  some  theatrical  people  while  visiting  some 
friends  out  of  town.  A  strange  looking  letter  passed 
through  the  postoffice  addressed  to  Miss  Nellie  and  the 
man  she  was  going  to  marry,  being  a  clerk  in  the  office, 
undertook  to  deliver  the  letter.  His  curiosity  got  the  bet- 
ter of  him  and  he  opened  and  read  it.  It  made  him  so  mad 
that  he  accused  her  of  flirting  with  an  actor  and  treated 
her  shamefully.  She  quit  the  choir,  her  father  and  mother 
quarreled  over  her  refusing  to  marry  Stover  and  she  ran 
away  from  it  all.  She  first  reported  the  matter  to  the 
postmaster.  Stover  lost  his  job  and  the  federal  officers 

came  near  getting  him.  The 
family  are  all  separated,  the 
home  has  been  sold  and 
there  was  quite  an  exciting 
time.  If  Stover  had  only 
given  her  a  chance  to  ex- 
plain, for  it  happened  that 
there  was  nothing  to  it  after 
all.  A  show  troupe  had 
stopped  at  the  hotel  where 
she  was  visiting  and  Nellie 
had  been  introduced  to 
them/' 

I  did  not  tell  him  that  I 
wrote  that  letter,  but  I  re- 
marked that  it  was  a  case 


DOUBLING    BACK  101 

where  the  actor  might  have  caused  a  tragedy  and  would 
have  been  both  innocent  and  guilty. 

Miss  Nellie  Brown  went  out  of  town, 

To  visit  her  friend  Miss  Mizzic; 
When  she  returned,  John's  love  she  spurned, 

And  it  gave  them  all  the  Phthisic. 


.A  GEO.  M.  INCIDENT 

It  was  spring,  1894.  George  Cohan  was  traveling  with 
his  folks,  "The  Cohan  Family, "  in  comedy  and  concert 
and  Georgie  was  Jerry  Cohan's  son,  the  greatest  song  and 
dance  youth  that  Iowa  had  ever  seen. 

The  Oakes  company  got  off  the  train  at  a  little  junc- 
tion town  one  morning  and  there  upon  the  platform  was 
Edwin  Patterson,  a  young  man  with  whom  I  had  con- 
versed and  corresponded  in  regard  to  taking  out  a  con- 
cert company,  the  "  Lyric  Orientals, "  and  after  shaking 
hands  he  told  me  that  he  was  in  advance  for  the  "Cohan 
Family "  and  said,  "Come  over  to  the  depot  and  I'll  in- 
troduce you.  We  are  waiting  for  the  train  to  Des  Moines. ' ' 
Well,  I  was  introduced  to  the  now  famous  George  M. 
Cohan,  theatrical  magnate  and  author  of  many  of  the 
most  popular  musical  comedies  of  the  age. 

Two  years  ago  I  met  a  George  Tyler,  who  was  at  one 
time  a  principal  member  of  Mr.  Cohan's  "Little  Johnnie 
Jones"  company.  He  recited  and  gave  me  the  following 
verses  and  said  they  were  from  the  pen  of  George  M. ; 


102  DOUBLING    BACK 

but  the  Tyler  man  was  in  such  an  emaciated  condition, 
caused  from  morphine,  that  I  don't  know  whether  all  that 
he  told  me  was  truth  or  fiction.  However,  they  sound  like 
George  and  "they're  my  sentiments,  too." 


KNOCK  ME  WHEN  I'M  DEAD 

I  have  noticed  when  a  fellow  dies, 

No  matter  what  he's  been, 
A  saintly  chap  or  one  whose  life 

Was  deeply  steeped  in  sin; 
His  friends  forget  the  bitter  words 

They  spoke  but  yesterday, 
And  now  they  have  a  multitude 

Of  pretty  things  to  say. 
I  fancy  when  I  go  to  rest 

Someone  will  bring  to  light, 
Some  kindly  word  or  kindly  act 

Long  buried  out  of  sight; 
But  if  it's  just  the  same  to  you, 

You  may  give  to  me  instead 
The  bouquets  while  I'm  living, 

And  do  your  knocking  when  I'm  dead. 

Don't  save  all  your  kisses  to  imprint 

Upon  my  marble  brow, 
While  countless  maledictions 

Are  hurled  upon  me  now; 
Just  say  one  kindly  word  to  me, 

While  I  mourn  here  alone, 
And  don't  save  all  your  eulogy 

To  carve  upon  a  stone. 


DOUBLING    BACK  103 

What  do  I  care  when  I'm  dead 

If  the  Bloomingdale  Gazette 
Gives  me  a  write-up  with  my  picture 

In  mourning  borders  set? 
It  would  not  flatter  me  a  bit, 

No  matter  what  it  said. 
So  kindly  throw  your  bouquets  now 

And  do  your  knocking  when  I'm  dead. 

It  may  be  nice  when  we  are  gone 

To  have  the  folks  talk  so, 
To  have  the  flowers  come  in  loads 

From  relatives,  you  know. 
It  may  be  nice  to  have  these  things 

From  those  we  leave  behind. 
But  just  as  far  as  I'm  concerned 

I  really  do  not  mind; 
I'm  quite  alive  and  well  today, 

And  while  I  linger  here — 
Give  me  a  helping  hand  at  times, 

Lend  me  a  word  of  cheer; 
Just  change  the  game  a  little  bit 

And  kindly  switch  the  decks, 
For  I'll  be  no  judge  of  flowers, 

When  I've  cashed  in  my  checks. 


FROM  MISSOURI  TO  "EDGEWOOD  FOLKS,"  VIA 
AI/BA  HEYWOOD 

I  closed  my  engagement  with  the  Oakes  Swiss  Bell 
Ringers  after  the  Fourth  of  July,  1894,  and  negotiated 
with  my  old  friend,  Alba  Heywood,  to  play  the  part  of 


104  DOUBLING    BACK 

" Skinner"  in  Sol  Smith  Russell's  play  of  "Edgewood 
Folks."  Mr.  Hey  wood  wanted  to  see  what  I  could  do,  so 
I  said  good-by  to  the  grand  old  Oakes  at  Kirksville,  Mis- 
souri, and  journeyed  to  Owosso,  Michigan,  where  I  joined 
the  Heywood  company  for  a  short  visit  just  before  they 
closed  their  '94  season.  I  showed  him  that  I  was  just 
from  Missouri  and  what  I  could  do,  signed  a  contract  to 
open  with  him  in  August  and  we  all  took  the  steamer  from 
Grand  Haven  to  Chicago. 


AN  ACTOR  WITH  A  REAL  SHOW 

The  acting  bees  quit  bumbling.  I  signed  up  for  the 
seasons  of  '94  and  '95  with  Alba  Heywood  and  played 
the  part  of  "Skinner"  in  Sol  Smith  Russell's  Comedy, 
"Edgewood  Folks."  We  opened  the  season  in  Joliet, 
Illinois,  fifty  miles  southwest  of  Chicago  and  closed  the 
season  in  Elkhart,  Indiana,  fifty  miles  southeast  from  the 
Windy  City. 

I  did  not  get  along  very  well  at  first,  and  the  brother, 
0.  W.  Heywood,  was  in  favor  of  letting  "Meadie"  go  and 
getting  an  actor  that  could  play  the  part;  but  he  apolo- 
gized to  me,  after  ten  days,  for  I  really  began  to  "hog 
the  show"  in  a  legitimate  characterization  of  the  village 
Yankee.  I  made  up  as  near  as  possible  like  the  cartoons 
of  Bill  Nye  and  when  "Skinner"  and  the  old  maid  en- 
tered the  parlor,  at  the  reception  given  to  the  young 
minister,  people  in  the  audience  would  exclaim  'aloud, 


DOUBLING    BACK 


105 


"There's  Old  Bill  Nye."  I  received  flattering  press  no- 
tices in  all  of  the  cities  that  we  visited  and  made  good 
for  the  season  of  thirty  weeks  and  ten  thousand  miles  of 
one-night  stands.  Frederick  Truesdale  and  Robert  El- 
liott, two  Broadway  actors,  made  their  professional  debut 
with  the  same  show. 

At  New  Iberia,  Louisiana,  part  of  the  company  visited 
Joseph  Jefferson  at  his  plantation,  near  the  little  station 
of  "Shore  Acres;"  and  we  gorged  ourselves  with  oranges 
and  pecans  right  off  the  trees,  while  Joseph,  his  house- 
keeper (a  colored  French  mammy)  and  the  white  overseer 
entertained  us  magnificently. 

We    visited    New    Orleans;    St.    Augustine — with    its 
Ponce  de  Leon  hotel ;  Chattanooga  and  the  battlegrounds  of 
Lookout  Mountain;  Atlanta, 
Ga.,  Louisville,  Ky,,  etc. 

We  named  the  mascot 
"  Jaglenfrock"  and  had  a 
very  successful,  merry, 
financial  and  enjoyable  sea- 
son and  the  last  I  heard  of 
Alba  Heywood  and  his 
brothers  was  in  1901  when 
they  struck  oil  at  Beau- 
mont, Texas,  and  became 
Heywood  Brothers,  oil  mag- 
nates, estimated  to  be  worth 
twenty  million  dollars.  ( See 
Saturday  Evening  Post, 
February  19,  1916.) 

l"  WITHI'EOBEWDDD "FOLKS'1 


106  DOUBLING    BACK 


A  PLEASANT  SURPRISE  COMPANY 

I  endeavored  to  secure  an  engagement  while  in  Chi- 
cago, but  it  was  spring  and  the  wrong  time  of  the  year. 
I  should  have  gone  to  New  York,  with  the  reputation  I 
had  made  and  signed  up  for  the  following  season  with 
some  New  York  company.  Instead  I  met  A.  G.  Allen, 
the  bell  ringer's  hustling  agent  and  we  organized  a  com- 
pany, with  piano  player,  sketch  team  and  I  myself  as  the 
show.  We  lasted  one  week  and  closed  at  Sandwich  with 
enough  cash  to  send  the  people  back  to  Chicago,  all  except 
the  piano  player.  We  were  broke.  I  borrowed  ten  dollars 
from  a  cousin,  gave  half  of  it  to  Allen,  reengaged  the 
piano  player  and  Allen  and  went  ahead  with  the  one-man 
show  and  a  piano  orchestra. 

We  made  it  stick  after  many  close  calls,  and  we  blos- 
somed out  into  a  first  class  concert  show.  At  times  we 
even  had  to  carry  our  trunks  to  the  depot  after  dark  to 
save  cartage,  so  that  we  could  purchase  tickets  for  two 
to  the  next  stand,  while  Allen  would  walk  into  a  town, 
bill  it  and  walk  out  again.  One  time  he  even  preached  a 
sermon  for  an  old  classmate  in  a  country  church,  in  order 
to  get  the  preacher  to  drive  him  across  country  when  he 
did  not  have  car  fare.  We  schemed  and  saved  and  finally 
secured  Carl  Herrman,  the  famous  boy  violinist,  then 
Jennie  Robinson,  prima  donna  soprano.  We  then  changed 
the  name  to  The  New  York  Ideals,  and  toured  the  central 
states  until  June,  1896. 

I  married  the  piano  player,  Georgiana  Van  Gordan,  of 


DOUBLING    BACK  107 

Dunkirk,  New  York.  Some  months  afterward  we  closed 
the  company  for  a  time,  at  Oshkosh,  Wisconsin,  and  I 
went  with  my  wife  to  her  father's  home  for  a  visit  with 
her  parents. 


IN  JAIL  ON  A  FLUKE 

The  New  York  Ideals  gave  an  entertainment  under 
the  auspices  of  the  Young  People's  Society  of  Christian 
Endeavor  at  Leroy,  Minnesota.  The  contract  read  "fifty- 
fifty"  and  the  society  was  to  furnish  hotel  accommoda- 
tions for  five  persons  one  day. 

The  next  morning  I  displayed  my  contract  to  the  land- 
lord (a  county  commissioner)  and  he  said,  "All  right,  go 
ahead."  We  proceeded  across  the  state  line  into  Iowa, 
played  four  engagements  and  passed  back  through  Leroy 
into  Minnesota  again.  When  the  train  left  Leroy  I  was 
surprised  by  the  sheriff  who  called  on  me.  He  stated  that 
I  had  left  my  hotel  bill  unpaid  at  Leroy  and  furthermore 
told  me  that  it  was  up  to  him  to  collect  it  and  the  costs, 
and  that  if  I  would  settle  the  bill  there  would  be  an  end 
to  the  matter.  I  refused  and  showed  him  my  contract. 
He  said  I  was  in  the  right  but  that  the  church  people 
had  refused  to  pay  and  he  was  obliged  to  hold  me  until 
there  was  a  settlement. 

I  wired  Allen.  The  sheriff  went  with  us  to  our  next 
stand,  took  tickets  on  the  door  at  night,  and  the  next  morn- 
ing took  me  to  the  county  jail  while  the  costs  were  accu- 
mulating. 


108  DOUBLING    BACK 

Allen  met  us  at  the  jail.  The  sheriff  locked  me  up  and 
returned  to  Leroy  with  Allen.  He  took  the  contract, 
found  the  minister  and  the  chairman  of  the  entertain- 
ment committee,  assembled  them  in  the  justice's  office 
and  they  soon  came  to  terms.  It  cost  the  Christian  En- 
deavor Society  thirty-seven  dollars  and  fifty  cents  to  set- 
tle what  was  originally  a  five  dollar  board  bill.  The  sheriff 
wired  his  deputy  at  Austin  to  release  me  and  the  little 
concert  show  went  on  its  way  rejoicing  to  the  next  stand. 

Some  children  saw  me  through  a  window  and  asked 
me  what  I  was  in  jail  for?  They  had  been  playing  in  the 
yard  and  just  noticed  me  for  the  first  time.  I  made  up' 
as  fierce  a  looking  face  as  I  could  and  said,  "I  killed  the 
president."  And  they  air-o-planed. 


DUNKIRK,  NEW  YORK  TO  MOOSEJAW,   SAS- 
KATCHEWAN, NORTH  WEST  TERRITORY 

From  the  city  of  Dunkirk,  New  York,  where  they 
make  the  Brooks  locomotive,  to  Moose  jaw,  Saskatchewan, 
N.  W.  T.,  dominion  of  Canada,  where  they  make  cold 
weather  and  grow  good  beef  cattle,  is  over  two  thousand 
miles.  My  wife  and  I  traveled  that  distance  to  join  the 
Carrie  Lee  Stoyle  English  Comedy  Concert  company,  via 
Chicago,  St.  Paul  and  Pipestone,  Minnesota ;  Grand  Forks, 
North  Dakota,  Winnipeg  and  Manitoba.  Pipestone,  Min- 
nesota, is  where  the  Indians  used  to  come  for  hundreds  of 
miles  around  to  get  the  pipe  stone  for  the  pipes  they 
used  in  peace  or  war. 


DOUBLING    BACK  109 

The  Ideals  had  been  forced  to  close  their  long  season 
of  one-night  stands  at  Oshkosh,  on  account  of  continuous 
bad  business.  Owing  to  this  fact  I  changed  partners  about 
two  months  before  the  crash  came.  It  happened  that  my 
wife  wanted  concert  and  my  business  partner  wanted  an 
all-around  vaudeville  show.  So  Mr.  Allen  and  Mr.  Meade 
were  obliged  to  dissolve  partnership.  I  secured  another 
partner  through  advertising.  We  played  towns  in  the 
' '  Little  Big  Thumb, ' '  Marquette,  Iron  Mountain  and  Mari- 
nette,  where  we  did  a  nice  business.  However,  after  sixty 
days  I  closed  with  the  new  partner  who  was  "N.  G."  I 
thought  it  wise  to  quit  before  he  should  break  me  alto- 
gether. I  now  planned  to  go  to  Chicago,  then  visit  my 
wife's  people  at  Dunkirk,  reorganize  the  Ideals  and  tour 
the  eastern  states. 

We  remained  in  Chicago  only  a  few  days.  We  went 
into  a  booking  agency  and  left  our  names,  then  went  to 
visit  the  old  folks  at  home.  After  we  had  been  at  Dun- 
kirk about  ten  days  I  received  a  telegram  from  the  agent 
at  Chicago  which  read:  "Join  Stoyle  English  Concert 
company,  Grand  Forks,  North  Dakota.  Tickets  and  one 
week's  salary  here.'' 

We  thought  it  would  prove  to  be  a  good  engagement 
and  started  as  soon  as  we  could  pack  and  say  good-by. 
We  secured  our  week's  salary  and  two  tickets  at  Chicago, 
which  had  been  advanced  to  the  agent,  and  in  due  time 
arrived  at  Grand  Forks,  where  we  met  Miss  Stoyle  and 
her  manager  (?)  as  we  were  getting  off  the  train.  They 
put  us  back  upon  the  same  train  and  took  us  to  Moose  jaw, 
Saskatchewan,  via  Winnipeg.  After  a  good  sleep  at  the 


110  DOUBLING    BACK 

hotel,  Miss  Stoyle  arranged  and  rehearsed  a  program  and 
said  we  were  billed  to  open  there  the  next  night  and  that 
we  would  rehearse  again  tomorrow.  In  the  meantime  we 
proceeded  to  get  rested  after  our  long  journey. 

After  supper  we  went  to  the  opera  house  and  rehearsed 
again.  Then  we  arranged  our  wardrobe,  made  up  for  our 
first  turn  and  waited,  watched  and  waited  again.  After 
what  seemed  20:45  o'clock,  the  manager  (?)  came  to  my 
dressing  room  and  notified  me  that  there  would  not  be  a 
performance  that  evening.  It  seemed  there  were  just  six- 
teen persons  in  the  audience,  and  Miss  Stoyle  was  drink- 
ing brandy  and  sodas  in  her  dressing  room.  She  informed 
me  that  the  people  in  town  had  not  yet  returned  from 
the  railroad  men's  picnic  and  that  as  she  would  have  to 
pay  ten  dollars  for  the  use  of  the  piano,  ten  dollars  for 
the  hall  and  ten  dollars  for  license  she  had  concluded  not 
to  show  and  would  see  me  in  the  morning. 

In  the  Northwest  Territories,  in  '96  they  counted  time 
from  one  to  twenty-four  and  at  13 :39  (1 :39  P.  M.  in  U.  S.) 
Miss  Stoyle  summoned  me  to  her  room.  She  was  in  bed 
and  looked  as  though  she  had  been  somewhere,  some  place 
and  had  some  time.  She  looked  at  me  through  her  eye- 
glass (as  big  as  a  sixteen  size  watch)  and  informed  me 
that  luck  was  against  her,  that  it  was  two  hundred  and 
eighty  miles  to  the  next  stand  and  she  did  not  think  that 
it  would  be  wise  to  take  me  and  my  wife  any  further 
from  home.  She  gave  me  twenty  dollars  and  said  that  was 
all  she  could  spare  and  that  as  soon  as  her  next  remit- 
tance came  she  was  going  back  to  England.  It  was  a 
joyful  situation  and  I  made  the  best  of  it.  My  wife 


DOUBLING    BACK 


111 


roared  slightly.  "We  took  the  train  to  Regina,  where  the 
Northwest  Mounted  Police  have  their  headquarters.  There 
we  gave  a  concert  and  entertainment  under  their  auspices. 
With  the  assistance  of  several  local  persons  we  played  to 
a  very  large  house  at  the  fort,  and  found  them  all  to  be 
gentlemen  of  culture,  refinement  and  education. 


I  DOUBLE  IN  BRASS 

While  arranging  with  the  N.  W.  M.  P.  I  met  the  ad- 
vance agent  of  the  Robert  Buchanan  Dramatic  company 
that  was  touring  the  territories  with  their  private  car, 
brass  band,  orchestra  and  famous  actors,  comedians,  plays 
and  canvas  opera  house. 

When  the  show  arrived, 
the  next  day  after  our  con- 
cert at  the  barracks,  I 
struck  the  boss  for  a  job. 
He  wanted  an  actor  and  a 
piano  player.  So  we  were 
all  in  luck.  Mr.  Buchanan 
gave  us  a  room  on  the  car, 
which  we  proceeded  to  oc- 
cupy and  decorate  to  suit 
our  fancy.  Meals  were 
served  in  each  stateroom. 
The  cook,  porter,  male  and 
female  actors,  proprietor, 
advance  agent  and  band 
leader  were  a  jolly  crowd, 


112 


DOUBLING    BACK 


while  the  canvasmen,  stake  drivers,  scenery  shifters  and 
property  men  doubled  in  brass  or  marched  in  the  noon-day 
parade. 

It  was  week  stands,  mostly,  repertoire  under  canvas 
until  it  became  too  cold.  That  happened  in  Calgary, 
where  Buchanan  stored  our  tent  and  the  paraphernalia 
that  went  with  it  and  I  believe  it  is  there  yet. 

In  one  town  we  showed  in  a  large  butcher  shop  for  a 
week,  with  quarters  of  beef  hanging  all  around  the  room. 
At  another  place  it  was  in  a  granary,  with  the  audience 
sitting  upon  great  piles  of  wheat.  And  still  at  another 
freight  division  point  we  actually  gave  a  performance 
in  a  round  house,  and  half  of  the  audience  were 
friendly  wild  Blackfoot  Indians.  The  troupe  went  out 

to  their  camp,  smoked  the 
pipe  of  peace  with  the 
seven  big  chiefs,  while  big 
chief  Black  Feather  and  his 
bride  escorted  us  back  to 
town  where  we  gave  them 
reserved  seats  on  a  board 
across  the  ash  pit  for  a  wed- 
ding present.  At  the  end 
of  the  week  everybody  in 
troupe  had  Indian  trinkets 
galore,  which  the  Indians 
had  traded  for  tickets  at  the 
door.  We  paid  cash  to  Mr. 
Buchanan  for  them  and  ob- 
tained many  nice  souvenirs 


THE  INDIRNS 
RND   THE 
ROUND-HOUSED 


DOUBLING    BACK  113 

at  greatly  reduced  Indian  prices.  They  could  not  under- 
stand the  plays  but  enjoyed  the  knife  fights  and  the 
music. 

On  another  occasion,  when  the  train  was  blocked  at  the 
summit  of  the  mountains,  we  put  up  scenery  in  the  end 
of  the  long  dining  room  of  the  hotel  and  furnished  enter- 
tainment to  the  trainload  of  passengers  for  three  days 
before  the  crew  and  plows  could  get  the  tracks  cleared. 
We  played  Vancouver,  New  "Westminster  and  crossed  the 
line  into  the  United  States  of  America  at  Elaine,  Washing- 
ton. After  playing  about  Puget  Sound  for  a  few  weeks 
I  closed  with  the  Robert  Buchanan  company  at  Seattle. 
My  wife  took  a  steamer  for  'Frisco  and  went  to  Visalia, 
California,  to  visit  my  sister.  I  joined  a  dramatic  com- 
pany that  was  going  south  into  California  in  a  few  weeks, 
where  I,  too,  would  visit  my  sister,  and  my  wife  and  I 
would  be  reunited.  This  was  in  January,  1897.  I  had 
been  with  the  Buchanan  show  about  six  months  and  all 
the  time  I  doubled  in  brass,  playing  the  bass  drum,  march- 
ing in  snow,  ice,  rain  and  slush,  beating  the  drum  with 
one  hand  and  doubling  the  cymbals  with  the  other. 


GROVER'S  ALCAZAR  STOCK  COMPANY 

I  came  very  near  going  to  Juneau,  Alaska,  with  a  stock 
company.  The  Klondike  rush  had  just  begun.  My  wife 
did  not  want  to  go.  So  I  joined  "The  Grovers"  stock 
company  direct  from  the  Alcazar,  San  Francisco,  which 


114  DOUBLING    BACK 

was  playing  a  stock  engagement  at  the  old  Third  Avenue 
theatre  in  Seattle.  They  could  not  use  my  wife  at  the 
time,  so  she  took  a  vacation  and  I  was  to  join  her  later 
at  my  sister's  home. 

"The  Grovers"  played  short  stock  engagements  at 
Seattle,  Tacoma  and  Portland.  I  remember  that  I  went  on 
for  a  specialty  at  a  performance  in  Portland  and  scored 
quite  a  hit  as  "Bill  Nye."  The  Oregonian  gave  me  about 
fifteen  lines  and  the  show  nearly  six.  Old  man  Grover, 
"The  Governor/7  as  every  one  called  him,  did  not  like 
this  any  too  well,  but  complimented  me  highly.  At  a 
social  session  of  the  Elks  one  evening  (he  belonged  to 
No.  1)  where  he  presided  as  toastmaster,  he  called  upon 
me  as  "Bill  Nye"  to  entertain  for  a  few  moments.  Of 
course  I  responded  and  retired  to  my  corner  amid  great 
applause. 

Instead  of  going  south  into  California,  the  show  went 
east  to  Walla  Walla,  Boise,  Salt  Lake  City,  then  north  to 
Butte.  My  wife  joined  me  there  and  was  engaged  as 
musical  director.  Southern  California  did  not  agree  with 
her  health. 

The  show  did  not  do  very  well  and  it  kept  me  busy  try- 
ing to  draw  my  salary.  I  even  tried  to  quit  the  show  at 
Pocatello,  Idaho,  but  Grover  held  our  trunks  and  would 
not  give  up  the  checks.  They  were  doubling  back  west 
to  Walla  Walla  and  intended  going  to  Spokane,  to  the 
Auditorium  for  summer  stock.  So  I  stayed,  but  after 
the  second  week  "The  Grovers,"  father  and  son,  got  into 
a  fight  with  one  of  the  actors,  Guy  Durrell,  and  just  about 
knocked  Durrell  out  with  a  billy.  He  had  them  arrested. 


DOUBLING    BACK  115 

They  were  fine  seven  and  three  hundred  dollars — dad 
seven,  son  three  hundred — and  this  was  the  means  of 
breaking  up  the  summer  engagement.  We  were  obliged 
to  take  to  the  road.  We  played  the  Coeur  d'Alenes.  My 
wife  was  taken  sick  at  Wardner  and  I  quit  the  show. 
Old  man  Grover  gave  me  two  dollars,  which  was  the  largest 
sum  of  money  that  he  ever  gave  to  me  at  one  time  while 
I  was  with  him.  They  secured  a  three-day  Fourth  of 
July  date  at  the  Auditorium  in  Spokane  and  being  short 
of  people  they  wired  me  to  come  for  three  days,  "salary 
sure."  I  answered:  "Send  round  trip  ticket  and  salary/1 
which  they  did.  After  the  three  days  I  returned  to  Ward- 
ner. The  Grovers,  father  and  son,  went  east  and  I  have 
never  seen  them  since.  It  was  a  case  where  the  father 
did  the  gambling  and  the  son  took  to  drink. 


THE  AUTO  PENS  GET  TO  WORK 

I  dug  my  auto  pens  out  of  my  trunk  and  with  the  as- 
sistance of  another  actor  and  his  wife,  who  had  quit  the 
show  at  the  same  time,  made  several  business  directories 
in  the  neighboring  towns.  We  also  gave  a  benefit  perform- 
ance in  Wardner,  with  a  little  local  assistance. 

My  wife  had  now  recovered  and  could  help.  The  four 
of  us  worked  our  way  to  Butte,  Montana,  by  playing  the 
small  towns  enroute  with  a  four-people  show  and  the  auto 
pens.  Lockwood  and  his  wife  had  a  little  money.  He 
got  some  more  from  home  and  they  departed  happily. 
I  went  to  work  in  a  vaudeville  theatre  in  Butte,  doing- 


116  DOUBLING    BACK 

two  turns  a  night.  Here  I  learned  to  eat  limberger 
cheese  with  some  of  my  old  acquaintances  from  Hancock, 
Michigan,  who  had  moved  from  copperdom  in  Michigan 
to  Butte,  Montana,  the  copper  mining,  smelting,  barren, 
smoky,  drinking,  sporting,  prosperous,  big,  union  town. 

After  a  four  weeks  *  engagement  in  Butte  I  secured  two 
weeks  at  Great  Falls  in  the  same  kind  of  a  joint.  Of 
course  I  took  my  wife  along  and  she  secured  a  piano  job. 

There  was  a  very  large  copper  smelter  situated  at 
Great  Falls.  A  great  many  of  my  old  schoolmates  from 
Hancock  were  connected  with  the  plant.  I  was  in  hopes 
they  would  not  discover  me,  but  one  evening  the  stage 
manager  reported  there  were  some  gentlemen  in  the  audi- 
ence who  knew  me  and  wanted  to  see  me.  They  came  into 
my  dressing  room  and  we  had  a  jubilantly-ten-year-re- 
newal-of-acquaintance-of-a-time.  They  wanted  to  know 
what  I  was  doing  in  such  a  place.  I  told  them  that  I  was 
trying  to  get  enough  money  to  buy  tickets  for  myself  and 
wife  back  into  civilization.  They  wouldn't  stand  for  it, 
but  secured  a  clerical  job  for  me  at  the  smelter,  so  I  quit 
the  stage  and  commenced  the  ore  weighing  business. 


THE  B.  &  M.  SMELTER— A  WEIGHER 

During  the  second  week  of  my  engagement  at  the 
vaudeville  theatre  at  Great  Falls,  Montana,  the  stage  man- 
ager billed  me  as  "Hancock  Meade"  and  the  smelter  boys 
were  present  nearly  every  night  to  see  their  old  school- 
mate from  Hancock.  This  resulted  in  my  becoming  per- 
manently established  at  the  Boston  &  Montana  Consoli- 


DOUBLING    BACK  117 

dated  Silver  and  Copper  Mining  company's  smelter,  as 
a  clerk  and  weigher.  I  never  lost  a  shift  and  put  in  seven 
hundred  and  ninety  shifts  in  two  years  and  sixty  days 
(November  1, 1897,  to  January  1,  1900). 

The  smelter  was  situated  on  the  Missouri  river,  on  a 
spur  that  extended  from  the  main  line  of  the  Great  North- 
ern Railway,  at  Great  Falls.  There  were  four  trains  every 
twenty-four  hours,  from  the  Falls  to  the  smelter,  consist- 
ing of  different  grades  of  ore,  lime,  coal  and  supplies  for 
the  plant. 

For  one  year  I  acted  as  weigher  and  clerk  at  the  track 
scales,  two  weeks  night  shift  and  two  weeks  day  shift. 
It  was  my  duty  to  weigh  every  carload  of  material  and 
keep  a  record  of  every  car  from  the  time  it  entered  the 
yard  until  it  went  out,  with  the  gross,  tare  and  net 
weights.  The  record  stated  whether  the  car  was  unloaded 
at  blast  furnace  No.  1 ;  reverberatory  furnace  No.  2,  at  the 
concentrator,  sample  mill,  electrolytic  plant  furnace,  re- 
finery or  warehouse.  At  the  end  of  the  year  I  was  trans- 
ferred to  the  timekeeper's  office  and  thence  to  the  furnace 
refinery,  where  I  weighed  all  the  refined  copper  that  was 
shipped,  keeping  the  records  of  cathodes  made  from  an- 
odes, by  means  of  the  electrolytic  plant,  with  weights  and 
numbers.  The  entire  plant  was  run  by  electricity.  The 
currents  were  generated  by  a  two  or  three  hundred  thou- 
sand horse  power  hydraulic  plant  from  the  currents  of  the 
Missouri. 

The  first  few  months,  while  acting  as  a  weigher  of 
copper,  etc.,  I  also  weighed  another  matter,  in  my  mind, 
very  seriously,  and  concluded  that  my  wife  and  Edward 


118  DOUBLING    BACK 

must  part.  She  expressed  a  wish  to  go  east  on  a  visit. 
Accordingly  I  arranged  matters  in  a  few  weeks  and  pro- 
vided her  with  money  and  a  ticket  to  Dunkirk,  New  York. 
"We  corresponded  for  a  few  months,  then  drifted  apart. 
This  is  a  landmark  on  the  trail  that  I  do  not  wish  to  dwell 
upon.  She  went  to  Cleveland,  visited  the  Buffalo  expo- 
sition, witnessed  the  assassination  of  President  McKinley, 
and  played  with  a  ladies'  orchestra  in  one  of  the  buildings. 
That  was  the  last  that  I  have  ever  heard  of  Mrs. 
Georgie  Van  Gordan  Meade.  She  may  be  alive,  divorced, 
married  again  and  the  mother  of  a  large  and  famous  fam- 
ily of  musicians.  I  truly  hope  so. 

I  remained  at  the  smelter  as  a  copper  weigher,  mingled 
with  Senator  Paris  Gibson;  Charles  M.  Russell,  the  cow- 
boy artist,  and  spent  my  salary  among  the  boys  trying 
to  drown  a  few  sorrows  until  January  1,  1900.  Then  I 
joined  Andy  McPhee's  bloodhound-Uncle-Tom 's-Cabin- 
troupe.  I  slept  in  a  two  foot  bunk  with  a  real  double-in- 
brass-bloodhound-actor  for  two  weeks.  Then  I  received 
my  two  weeks'  notice  because  I  could  not  do  Eva  and  a 
bloodhound  at  the  same  time.  I  quit  the  Private  Palace 
Car  at  Spokane  with  five  dollars  in  my  pocket  and  the 
thermometer  at  twenty  below  zero. 

I  stepped  lively  and  called  at  all  the  theatres.  While 
talking  to  the  manager  of  the  last  one  on  the  list  (the 
toughest  free  and  easy  joint  in  the  city)  the  telephone 
rang  and  the  manager  answered  the  same,  then  turned 
and  asked  me  if  my  name  was  Meade.  I  answered  "yes" 
and  he  told  me  that  some  one  wanted  to  talk  to  me  at 
Davenport.  I  did  not  know  there  was  a  town  by  the  name 


DOUBLING    BACK  119 

and  thought  he  meant  Davenport's  famous  restaurant. 
However,  I  took  the  receiver  and  said,  ''Hello!" 

When  I  had  received  my  notice  to  quit  the  McPhee 
outfit  I  immediately  sat  down  and  wrote  to  my  old  friend, 
Robert  Buchanan,  who  had  recently  organized  a  dramatic 
show  in  Spokane,  and  was  on  the  road.  I  had  taken  a 
chance  and  my  letter  had  been  forwarded.  He  now 
wanted  an  actor  and  had  been  chasing  me  by  telephone 
all  around  Spokane.  I  was  glad  to  hear  him  say:  "Is 
that  you,  Meade?  This  is  Buchanan.  When  can  you 
join?  Fifteen  and  cakes.  Will  send  ticket.  Call  at  rail- 
road office.  Come  on  first  train  to  Davenport,  Washing- 
ton." I  said  "good-by,"  hung  up  the  receiver  and  double- 
quicked  it  to  the  railroad  office,  got  my  ticket,  and  the  next 
morning  I  was  on  board  Buchanan's  private  car.  When 
I  shook  hands  with  old  "Bob"  I  remarked,  "Once  more 
you  have  proven  to  be  the  Good  Samaritan." 

We  had  various  experiences  with  good  and  bad  busi- 
ness, ice,  snow,  colored  cooks,  high-toned  piano  players 
and  too-proud-to-paste-up-bills  advance  agents.  At  one 
town  the  city  marshal  walked  up  the  aisle,  climbed  over 
the  footlights,  during  the  death  scene  of  Little  Willie  in 
East  Lynne,  and  wanted  to  know  what  we  had  done  with 
Kelly's  cook  stove.  It  seemed  that  the  property  man  had 
borrowed  a  little  sheet  iron  camp  stove,  to  use  in  a  garret 
scene  in  some  play,  and  had  forgotten  to  return  it.  That 
marshal  had  a  nice  voice  for  the  occasion,  too. 

I  did  not  have  to  double  brass, 
Do  props  or  manage  stage; 


120  DOUBLING    BACK 

I  rolled  in  the  sunshine  on  the  grass  (snow) 

Played  characters,  any  age; 
Then,  when  the  agent  quit,  perchance, 

I  also  was  the  big  advance. 

Business  was  better  after  the  high-toned  piano  player 
and  the  proud  agent  quit.  We  were  doing  nicely  when 
Buchanan  was  taken  seriously  ill  with  pneumonia,  at 
Weiser,  Idaho.  We  were  obliged  to  close  and  most  of  the 
actors  quit. 

While  waiting  around  the  hotel  I  became  acquainted 
with  some  traveling  men  who  told  me  about  a  wonderful 
town  named  Burns  in  Oregon  that  was  situated  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  miles  from  the  railroad.  They  stated  that 
if  we  could  get  a  small  company  together,  go  to  Burns 
and  play  for  a  week  or  two,  we  would  make  more  money 
than  we  could  ever  spend.  I  obtained  all  the  information 
I  could,  and  learned  that  Burns  was  a  wild  and  woolly, 
wide  open,  interior,  stock  town.  But  that  it  also  con- 
tained a  great  many  refined,  cultured,  wealthy  and  tal- 
ented people.  To  get  there  we  would  have  to  ride  over 
the  mountains  for  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  by  stage. 
It  looked  good  to  me  and  I  was  longing  for  adventure. 
I  talked  with  Mr.  Buchanan's  brother,  Ed.  He  talked 
it  over  with  Bob — he  was  nearly  well  by  this  time;  and 
Ed,  being  in  favor  of  the  trip,  we  managed  to  convince 
Bob  that  by  using  whiskers  and  wigs  we  could  fix  up  a 
repertoire  of  some  ten  or  twelve  plays  that  we  could  pro- 
duce with  five  men,  two  women  and  a  boy.  This  was  all 
that  remained  of  the  big  show  of  twenty  persons,  band 


DOUBLING    BACK  121 

and  orchestra.  The  bay  was  Archie  Buchanan,  aged  ten, 
and  he  could  play  boy  and  girl  parts  very  creditably.  I 
was  good  for  an  old  maid,  a  hag,  an  old  lady,  or  any  odd 
thing. 

The  finances  were  getting  low.  Bob  and  Ed  managed 
to  spare  enough  cash  to  get  me,  as  advance  agent,  to 
Burns,  via  stage,  from  Ontario,  Oregon.  At  the  first  town, 
Vale,  Oregon,  we  met  Mr.  Julian  Byrd,  editor  and  pro- 
prietor of  the  Burns  Times-Herald,  and  State  Representa- 
tive Geer.  They  witnessed  one  of  our  performances  at 
Vale  and  pronounced  it  first-class  for  a  small  company 
and  urged  us  to  go  on  to  Burns.  They  told  us  that  with 
their  endorsement  success  would  crown  our  efforts  and  we 
would  never  regret  or  forget  our  experience. 

I  left  Vale  one  morning  on  the  stage  ''as  the  big  ad- 
vance/7 and  after  riding  over  rocks,  ruts  and  corduroys 
for  fifteen  miles  I  arrived  at  Westfall,  population  fifty, 
consisting  of  cow  punchers,  stockmen,  etc.,  with  about 
seventy-five  more  within  a  radius  of  twelve  miles.  I  billed 
the  town,  arranged  hotel  accommodations,  rented  the  town 
hall  (no  scenery),  ate  a  square  meal  and  talked  like  an 
auctioneer  while  the  stage  driver  was  changing  horses  and 
the  other  passengers  were  eating.  We  rode  fifteen  miles 
more  to  a  stage  station  at  the  foot  of  a  lofty  mountain, 
arriving  there  after  dark.  It  was  April  and  somewhat 
chilly.  We  waited  for  the  stage  from  another  direction, 
hooked  on  four  horses  and  proceeded  to  climb  the  moun- 
tain. 

'Twas  the  longest  ride  I  can  remember! 
O'er  beds  of  lava,  mountains  hills! 


122  DOUBLING    BACK 

I  dreamed  that  Burns  was  one  great  fountain! 

Showering  actors  with  ten  dollar  bills! 

I  woke  when  e'er  the  wheels  struck  a  chuck! 

To  hear  the  driver  yell,  "Git  up,  Buck!" 

While  I  was  suffering  without  a  peep, 

He  whistled  sarcastically,  "Sleep,  Baby,  Sleep." 

I  rode  nearly  forty-eight  hours  and  billed  Drewsey  and 
Harney  while  the  driver  and  passengers  ate  and  changed 
horses.  They  were  small  places,  like  Westfall.  I  arrived 
in  Burns  the  second  night  at  twelve  o'clock  and  realized 
that  I  had  been  experiencing  something.  I  went  into  the 
barroom  of  the  hotel,  put  dates  on  some  half  sheet  posters 
to  send  back  by  the  stage  driver  to  Harney,  then  asked 
the  bartender  for  a  drink  of  brandy.  His  name  was  Baldy 
and  he  asked  me  if  I  was  a  preacher.  I  said,  "Put  me 
to  bed." 

"We  did  a  wonderful  business.  Each  one  of  us  doubled 
many  parts  with  all  kinds  of  whiskers  and  wigs.  Bob 
Buchanan  said  that  we  did  not  need  more  actors,  but  we 
needed  more  whiskers.  We  went  north  from  Burns  by 
Btage  to  Canyon  City,  Oregon,  then  to  Sumpter,  Idaho, 
and  by  rail  back  to  Weiser  and  the  private  car,  which  had 
been  left  there  in  care  of  the  cook. 

The  trip  proved  a  financial  and  healthful  success,  so 
much  so  that  Buchanan  took  the  car  and  troupe  to  Boise, 
sold  the  car,  purchased  wagons  and  horses,  and  we  covered 
two  thousand  miles  of  mountain  roads,  through  Idaho, 
Utah,  Nevada  and  California,  that  summer. 

Our  first  stand  out  of  Boise  was  at  Idaho  City,  an  old 
time  gold  mining  town,  where  the  scenes  of  the  play, 


DOUBLING    BACK  123 

" Golden  Giant  Mine/'  are  supposed  to  have  taken  place. 
It  was  the  Fourth  of  July,  1901.  We  were  billed  to  play 
"Two  Orphans "  (seven  persons  and  a  boy).  The  chief 
of  the  local  fire  department  said,  "I  have  heard  that  a 
great  many  theatres  have  burned  where  that  play  and 
Kate  Claxton  appeared,  and  if  you  do  not  object  I  would 
like  to  station  a  couple  of  fire  laddies  on  the  stage,  so 
that  when  the  fire  scene  occurs  they  might  be  handy/7 
We  did  not  object,  but  had  a  good  laugh  and  although 
Miss  Claxton  burned  up  some  theatres,  I  think  the  fire 
chief  meant  the  snow  scene. 

We  had  a  camping  outfit  with  us  and  for  six  weeks 
camped  along  the  old  state  military  road  from  Idaho  City 
to  Salmon  City,  in  Idaho.  The  only  town  we  saw  for  the 
three  weeks  was  Banner,  an  old  deserted  silver  mining 
town,  where  we  saw  one  man  who  was  the  company's 
watchman.  Hie  lived  in  a  small  house  and  used  the  town 
for  a  cattle  ranch.  The  stray  cattle  (mavericks)  he 
branded  as  his  own,  and  was  getting  rich.  He  smiled  con- 
tinuously, played  with  his  kittens  and  directed  us  on  our 
way.  We  spent  a  week  at  Red  Pish  lakes,  in  the  Saw 
Tooth  mountains,  fished  in  a  hundred  streams,  shot  grouse, 
deer  and  fool  hens,  crossed  the  railroad  at  Idaho  Falls, 
visited  the  Teton  mountains  and  kept  clear  of  railroad 
towns  from  Pocatello,  Idaho,  until  we  reached  Elko,  Ne- 
vada. By  this  time  it  was  too  cold  to  travel  by  team. 
After  placing  the  horses  in  the  care  of  a  rancher  at  Elko, 
we  took  the  railroad  to  Truckee,  California. 

I  gave  the  usual  two  weeks'  notice  to  Mr.  Buchanan 
after  playing  a  few  small  towns  in  the  Sacramento  Valley. 


124  DOUBLING    BACK 

We  closed  at  a  little  town  near  Colfax.  Speaking  of  Col- 
fax  reminds  me  that  we  billed  the  town  and  when  it  was 
8:30  and  time  to  ring  up  the  curtain  for  the  first  act, 
fhere  was  only  seventeen  persons  in  the  house.  So  in  order 
to  advertise  ourselves  as  having  a  good  show,  we  announced 
that  we  would  give  a  free  performance  and  sent  a  bunch 
of  small  boys  through  the  streets  to  announce  it.  The  re- 
sult was  a  very  good  audience,  well  pleased,  and  we  played 
to  a  paying  business  during  the  balance  of  the  engage- 
ment 

ONE  MAN  AND  ONE  SHOW 

ALSO 
THE  SOUTHERN  STOCK  CO. 

(1901) 

Before  closing  with  the  Robert  Buchanan  company, 
E.  H.  Buchanan  and  I  had  entered  into  an  agreement 
to  take  out  our  own  company.  Therefore  we  went  direct 
to  San  Francisco,  engaged  some  actors  and  while  E.  H. 
was  attending  to  some  other  business  matters  in  'Frisco, 
I  took  a  trip  to  Visalia  and  visited  my  sister,  Nellie,  whom 
I  had  not  seen  since  1887.  I  only  remained  in  Visalia  a 
few  days.  Sister  arranged  a  one-man  show  uder  the  auspi- 
ces of  the  W.  0.  W.,  and  with  the  assistance  of  some  local 
musical  talent  I  gave  an  entertainment  in  the  Armory 
Opera  House  to  a  very  large  audience.  The  affair  was  a 
tremendous  success,  financially  and  otherwise,  "Bill  Nye," 
"The  Raven, "  "Grandma"  and  the  jump  polka  dance 


DOUBLING    BACK  125 

scoring  exceedingly  strong  with  the  women  and  children. 
My  share,  at  fifty-fifty,  after  all  expenses  were  paid,  netted 
me  one  hundred  dollars  at  twenty-five  and  thirty-five 
cents  admission,  and  the  next  day  I  was  on  my  way  to 
join  my  partner,  E.  H.  Buchanan,  and  our  Southern 
Stock  company,  at  Colfax,  California.  There  we  rehearsed 
and  opened  the  season  for  a  long  tour  through  the  moun- 
tains with  horses  and  wagons. 

Our  company  consisted  of  E.  H.  Buchanan  and  wife, 
Fred  Moore  and  wife,  Albert  Welch,  Harry  McAuliff  and 
Juliet  Chandler,  with  I  as  general  teamster,  manager,  ac- 
tor, property  man,  advance  agent  and  treasurer.  Mr. 
Buchanan  directed  the  plays  and  managed  the  stage. 

We  opened  at  Coif  ax  to  light  business ;  then  railroaded 
to  Nevada  City  and  did  not  see  a  railroad  or  a  train  of 
cars  again  for  nearly  two  thousand  miles,  except  when  we 
crossed  the  Southern  Pacific  at  Ashland,  Oregon.  For  the 
first  two  weeks  we  played  to  light  houses,  and  our  capital 
was  nearly  exhausted.  We  were  in  debt  to  the  stage  com- 
pany for  transportation  when  we  arrived  in  Downieville. 
At  Downieville  we  played  to  good  houses,  replenished  our 
exchequer  and  went  by  livery  team  over  the  mountains  to 
Sierraville.  We  continued  to  meet  with  financial  success 
until  the  close  of  the  season.  We  purchased  horses  and 
wagons  at  Quincy,  Susanville  and  Alturas.  At  Susanville 
we  opened  the  Emerson  hotel  and  opera  house.  The  farm- 
ers came  for  miles  around  and  visited  Charley  Emerson 
and  his  new  brick  hotel  while  the  show  entertained  them 
for  fifty  and  seventy-five  cents  admission. 

The  people  at  Alturas  were  too  much  excited  over  the 


126  DOUBLING    BACK 

Lookout  lynching  affair  to  patronize  the  first  good  dra- 
matic show  that  had  visited  Modoc  County  for  several 
years.  In  fact  they  had  not  had  a  good  show  since  Billie 
Ellyford  had  been  there.  He  became  the  big  railroad  ten, 
twenty  and  thirty-cent  show  of  California. 

We  visited  Surprise  Valley,  with  its  four  little  towns 
snuggling  up  to  the  east  slope  of  the  mountains,  that  faced 
Nevada,  in  the  northeastern  corner  of  the  state,  and  then 
to  Lakeview,  Oregon,  for  a  big  five  days'  celebration  of 
the  Fourth.  The  celebration  consisted  of  horse  racing, 
broncho  busting,  Indian  war  dances,  sheep  shearing  con- 
tests. The  opera  house  was  over  a  livery  stable,  where 
the  people  purchased  four  square  feet  of  floor  space  for 
a  reserved  seat  to  our  show  and  furnished  their  own 
chairs.  "We  did  a  rollicking  business  at  Lakeview  and  the 
saloon  men  got  jealous.  Before  we  left  town  they  had 
rented  the  livery  stable  opera  house  for  the  next  year's 
celebration  so  that  no  show  could  take  all  the  money  out 
of  town.  Too  bad,  wasn  't  it  ?  The  men  folks  that  came  to 
the  celebration  and  brought  their  families  could  patronize 
the  saloons  and  the  gambling,  but  the  poor  wife  and  chil- 
dren, as  well  as  gentlemen  who  did  not  care  to  be  enter- 
tained in  a  saloon,  could  not  spend  a  dollar  to  see  a  good 
moral  play.  They  even  had  the  town  license  for  theatrical 
companies  greatly  increased.  But  the  next  year  we  fooled 
them.  We  rented  Charley  Snider 's  furniture  store,  built  a 
plank  stage,  hung  our  own  scenery  and  the  citizens  packed 
the  place  to  the  doors  every  night  and  we  were  two  thou- 
sand feet  from  a  livery  stable.  The  city  council  even  re- 
duced the  license. 


DOUBLING    BACK  127 

From  Lakeview  it  was  a  long  ride,  one  hundred  miles 
west  to  Linkville  (Klamath  Falls)  then  a  small  town  of 
about  six  hundred  inhabitants.  Here  we  found  a  real 
opera  house.  The  manager,  Mr.  John  V.  Houston,  was  in 
San  Francisco  having  his  kidney  cut  out,  so  we  did  not 
meet  him  until  the  next  year,  but  we  showed  under  the 
management  of  his  brother.  Mr.  Moore's  wife  was  taken 
very  seriously  ill  here  and  we  were  obliged  to  close  tempo- 
rarily and  leave  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Moore  behind.  We  went 
over  the  mountains  to  Ashland,  Medford  and  Jackson- 
ville, Oregon.  Mr.  Buchanan  went  to  Portland  and  se- 
cured two  new  persons,  a  Miss  Corinne  Snell  and  Herbert 
Miller.  "We  played  at  Jacksonville  and  Grants  Pass;  from 
there  we  went  to  Crescent  City,  Cal.,  one  hundred  miles 
distant,  over  one  of  the  most  beautiful  summer  mountain 
roads  in  existence. 

We  opened  on  Monday  night  in  Crescent  City  at  En- 
dert's  opera  house  which  had  been  built  for  eighteen  years. 
We  played  to  a  large  and  well  pleased  audience.  The 
next  morning  at  2  A.  M.  the  opera  house  burned  to  the 
ground  with  all  of  our  wardrobe,  scenery,  wigs  and  whis- 
kers. We  rented  a  small  dance  hall,  built  a  plank  stage, 
made  plank  seats,  painted  diamond  dye  scenery,  the  citi- 
zens furnished  wardrobes  and  the  local  amateur  dramatic 
club  furnished  wigs,  grease,  paints  and  whiskers.  After 
losing  two  nights  we  were  again  playing  to  a  packed 
house.  The  hall  was  entirely  too  small. 

We  traveled  up  the  Oregon  coast  to  Gold  Beach,  Port 
Orford  and  Bandon;  then  to  Marshfield  on  Coos  Bay.  We 
went  through  Curry  and  Coos  Counties,  but  did  not  do 


128  DOUBLING    BACK 

very  well.  Hal  the  Healer  had  just  been  through  Coos 
County,  and  picked  up  all  the  easy  money.  Buchanan 
did  not  like  the  country  but  I  made  up  my  mind  that  I 
would  go  back  some  day,  to  that  old  Coos  Bay. 

We  played  Munch 's  hall  at  Bandon  and  stopped  at 
Bedillion's  hotel.  By  way  of  amusing  ourselves  we  fished 
for  crabs  and  boiled  them  in  a  big  black  kettle  in  the  yard 
back  of  the  hotel.  Judge  Toppan  listened  to  Buchanan, 
who  was  a  solo  cornet  player  that  pleased  the  judge.  I 
smoked  a  cigar  with  Bill  Dungan  at  the  Blanco  hotel  in 
Marshfield  where  we  played  a  week.  On  Monday  night 
we  played  East  Lynne  in  Myrtle  Point  and  started  down 
the  coast  for  'Frisco.  We  stopped  three  nights  at  Crescent 
City  and  opened  Endert's  new  opera  house  to  the  largest 
business  in  the  history  of  that  neat  little  theatre. 

Next  we  toured  Humboldt  County,  California,  and  by 
inaugurating  ''ladies  free"  we  managed  to  do  a  nice  busi- 
ness, continuing  along  the  coast  playing  Fort  Bragg,  Ukiah 
and  Santa  Rosa.  At  Petaluma  (the  chicken  town)  we 
loaded  our  rolling  stock  upon  a  boat  and  sailed  by  steamer 
into  San  Francisco  where  we  disposed  of  the  same  at  a 
sale  stable  on  Seventh  street  at  a  good  figure. 

We  reorganized  our  show  for  railroad  purposes  and 
against  the  wishes  of  my  partner  I  took  my  seventeen- 
year-old-six-foot-two-inch  nephew,  Paul  Harvey,  who  had 
never  been  on  the  stage  in  his  life,  to  assist  me.  It  was 
not  long  until  we  had  him  playing  parts.  He  took  to  the 
acting  business  like  a  fish  to  water.  After  this  Buchanan 
and  I  did  not  get  along  very  well  as  partners.  We  went 
east  into  Nevada  and  after  playing  Eureka,  we  drove  over 


DOUBLING    BACK  129 

to  Ely,  Cherrycreek  and  north  to  Wells  through  snow, 
sage  brush,  wind  and  sand.  Riding  in  wagons  over  the 
mountains  in  the  summer  time  is  glorious,  but  in  the  win- 
ter time,  especially  in  Nevada,  it  is  misery.  So  after 
playing  Wells,  I  dissolved  partnership  with  Buchanan, 
and  Paul  and  I  returned  to  San  Francisco  by  rail. 

With  the  help  of  a  silent  partner  I  organized  a  new 
Southern  Stock  company  in  the  spring  of  1902  in  San 
Francisco.  We  opened  the  season  at  Point  Richmond. 
The  only  public  hall  was  over  a  livery  stable.  The  editor 
of  the  town  paper  was  from  Lakeview,  Oregon,  and  re- 
membered us.  We  played  to  business  that  was  ten  points 
above  freezing  for  six  evenings  without  a  matinee.  Then 
we  played  the  Armory  hall  on  Park  street  in  Alameda,  so 
that  the  silent  partner  might  visit  the  show  and  see  Miss 
Chandler,  the  leading  lady,  act.  The  rent  had  to  be  paid 
to  the  caretaker  every  night  before  the  show.  Eddie 
Mitchell  witnessed  and  wrote  up  the  performance  in  his 
own  champaign-ginger-beer  style,  in  the  Alameda  Daily. 

Charles  Gunn  was  leading  man,  Frederick  Gibert, 
heavies,  and  Paul  Harvey,  utilities.  We  went  by  steamer 
to  Eureka,  California,  for  a  week  of  comedy  at  the  Ingo- 
mar,  and  opened  in  a  New  England  pastoral  comedy  drama 
that  was  too  dry  for  the  manager.  The  Ingomar  manager 
would  not  let  us  show  the  next  night  unless  we  would 
guarantee  his  share  to  be  seventy-five  dollars.  He  said 
that  if  we  had  a  good  comedy  he  would  take  a  chance  and 
play  us  on  sharing  terms  Saturday  night.  Consequently 
Miss  Chandler  was  taken  very  sick  for  five  days  without 
a  doctor,  but  by  Saturday  had  recovered  sufficiently  to 


130  DOUBLING    BACK 

appear  as  ' '  Triss "  in  ' '  Beyond  the  Rockies. ' '  "We  played 
to  a  good  house  and  the  manager  said  ""Why  didn't  you 
play  that  the  first  night?  You  would  have  done  a  good 
week's  business  and  your  leading  lady  would  not  have 
been  forced  to  get  sick."  You  would  have  to  witness  a 
performance  of  both  plays  to  appreciate  that  manager. 
The  opening  play  was  very  similar  to  "  Shore  Acres" 
while  "Triss"  is  somewhat  less  artistic. 


THE  SUMMERS  OF  1902  AND  1903 

"We  went  by  team  from  Humboldt  County  to  Crescent 
City,  California.  There  we  met  the  Georgie  Harper  com- 
pany consisting  of  six  persons  from  the  east.  They  were 
resting  after  a  tremendous  tour.  Our  company  was  in- 
vited up  to  their  cottage  one  evening  after  the  show.  One 
of  their  members  came  in  quite  intoxicated  and  got  into 
a  fight.  The  women  screamed  and  Mr.  Gilbert  interfered. 
The  intoxicated  gentleman  took  offense  and  after  getting 
both  eyes  blacked  returned  to  town.  That  same  night  his 
wife  went  out  to  try  and  find  him.  Some  other  drunken 
man  insulted  her  and  her  escort  struck  him  pretty  hard. 
At  about  8  o'clock  the  next  morning  we  discovered  the 
two  who  had  been  struck  pretty  hard,  consoling  each 
other  over  a  drink.  One  was  the  actor  while  the  other 
was  a  farmer  The  farmer  said,  "Who  struck  you?"  and 
the  actor  replied,  '  *  The  same  man  that  hit  you.  Our  four 
eyes  all  look  alike.,  don't  they?" 

"We  left  Crescent  City  with  Frank  Bosch  and  his  two 


DOUBLING    BACK  131 

teams  which  we  engaged  for  the  summer  season  and  ar- 
rived at  Grants  Pass,  Oregon.  We  were  billed  to  play 
there  three  nights,  but  at  noon  on  the  day  of  our  opening 
an  old  lodging  house  caught  fire  and  with  a  strong  wind 
blowing,  the  fire  nearly  burned  up  the  town.  Being 
obliged  to  cancel  our  engagement  we  started  for  Klamath 
Falls.  We  hired  an  extra  team  at  Ashland  to  pull  us  to 
the  top  of  Ashland  mountain.  It  was  in  the  middle  of 
the  night  when  we  arrived  at  a  ranch  used  as  a  station. 
The  bedbugs  were  so  ravenous  that  we  all  crawled  out  of 
the  bunks  and  slept  in  the  haymow. 

Just  before  reaching  Klama,th  Fall$  we  released  a 
drunken  cowboy  and  his  horse  from  a  barb  wire  fence. 
Bolh  were  bleeding  profusely  and  the  cowboy  cursed  us 
poetically  for  our  pains. 

This  time  at  Klamath  we  met  the  jovial  John  and 
played  a  pleasant  engagement  over  the  Kerosene  sage- 
brush circuit  to  Lakeview  and  thence  to  Alturas.  Here 
we  found  a  scarlet  fever  scare  and  the  authorities  would 
not  let  us  show,  but  they  provided  us  with  a  camping 
outfit.  We  went  up  into  the  mountains  and  camped  at 
Blue  Lake,  Modoc  County,  until  the  scare  blew  over  two 
weeks  later. 

At  Surprise  Valley  the  people  at  Cedarville  tried  to 
influence  us  not  to  go  to  Eagleville,  informing  us  that 
there  was  a  bad  bunch  of  cowboys  down  there  that  would 
shoot  up  the  show.  I  had  been  around  where  there  had 
been  bad  cowboys  before,  so  was  not  afraid.  When  I  ar- 
rived I  went  into  Bud  Brown's  famous  Monday  morning- 
blood-washing-saloon,  bought  a  drink  and  told  them  I  was 


132  DOUBLING    BACK 

going  to  give  a  show  in  the  town  hall  that  night  and  that  if 
there  were  any  cowboys  who  wanted  to  shoot  the  roof  off 
after  they  had  paid  their  seventy-five  cents  to  see  the  show, 
they  were  welcome  to  do  so.  Bud  made  the  boys  get  out 
and  help  us  carry  our  baggage  into  the  hall,  closed  up  his 
saloon  after  supper  and  all  hands  went  to  the  show.  We 
had  a  good  time.  After  the  performance  we  adjourned 
to  Bud's  place.  The  next  morning  Bud  and  I  were  lashed 
together  with  a  long  piece  of  barb  wire  and  they  called 
us  the  Siamese  Twins. 

We  found  the  town  at  the  north  end  of  the  valley, 
Fort  Bidwell,  nearly  deserted.  A  sheep  herder  had  dis- 
covered gold  in  the  mountains  near  by  and  everybody  was 
out  prospecting  for  the  lost  mine.  I  did  not  inquire  whose 
lost  mine  it  was  or  I  would  have  discovered  something 
that  would  have  been  very  much  to  my  advantage.  We 
did  a  very  small  business  there  and  left  before  the  week 
was  out  for  a  two  hundred-mile  drive  north  across  the 
mountains,  desert  and  sage  brush,  to  Burns,  Oregon.  It 
required  seven  days  to  make  the  trip.  We  went  over  a 
mountain  where  the  road  was  almost  at  an  angle  of  forty- 
five  degrees  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile.  We  unloaded  our 
baggage,  and  walked  to  Fluke's  ranch.  It  required  five 
men  and  four  houses  to  get  our  baggage  again.  A  deaf 
lady  and  two  children  were  at  home  at  Fluke's  ranch. 
We  could  not  make  the  lady  understand  how  such  a  large 
party  could  be  traveling  across  such  a  deserted  place. 
It  was  dark  and  the  shack  was  small.  She  fed  us  and 
managed  to  make  us  understand  that  we  could  occupy  the 
kitchen  for  the  night  and  help  ourselves  to  the  woodpile. 


DOUBLING    BACK  133 

We  slept  on  the  floor  and  took  turns  keeping  fire.  We 
arrived  in  Burns  in  time  to  show  seven  nights  during  their 
annual  fair.  Our  only  complaint  was  the  opera  house 
was  not  big  enough. 

Prineville  is  over  a  hundred  miles  west  of  Burns  and 
that  was  some  drive.  We  stayed  all  night  at  a  ranch.  The 
next  morning  before  breakfast  the  boss  killed  a  man  in 
his  dooryard  with  a  shotgun,  then  calmly  saddled  a  horse 
and  went  to  Prineville  to  give  himself  up.  It  was  a  good 
breakfast  we  had  but  we  did  not  enjoy  it  a  bit.  The  man 
that  was  killed  was  trespassing  and  had  been  ordered  not 
to  come  another  step  or  to  make  any  more  threats  to  kill. 
He  continued  to  approach  the  house,  threatening  to  kill 
the  boss  and  as  he  stepped  upon  the  doorsill  met  his  death. 
The  Coroner  said,  "Not  guilty." 

The  little  stone  public  hall  at  Prineville  was  too  small 
to  make  our  engagement  there  a  big  financial  success,  but 
it  was  a  pleasant  one  and  we  departed  for  the  railroad 
via  the  Three  Sisters  mountains  down  the  McKenzie  River. 
We  arrived  at  Eugene,  closed  the  show  and  all  hands  went 
their  separate  ways.  I  joined  the  Georgie  Harper  com- 
pany and  so  did  Juliet  Chandler,  at  Corvalis.  Miss  Chan- 
dler did  not  stay  long.  Her  specialties  and  dancing  made 
a  bigger  hit  at  most  of  the  towns  than  Mrs.  Harper 's  act- 
ing and  that  meant  professional  jealousy.  It  did  not  af- 
fect me,  only  in  this  way,  I  did  not  get  my  salary  after 
the  first  few  weeks  very  regularly.  When  the  spring  of 
1903  began  to  approach,  little  Jay  Van  Cleve  and  I  went 
to  work  with  the  auto  pens.  After  working  and  doing 
well  for  about  ten  days,  Joe  Detrich,  of  the  Harper  com- 


134  DOUBLING    BACK 

pany,  called  me  up  from  a  neighboring  town  and  said 
they  had  booked  some  big  time  on  the  Cort  circuit;  and 
asked  us  to  return  and  help  them  out  for  a  few  weeks, 
or  until  they  could  secure  some  one  else.  I  returned  but 
Van  would  not. 

The  big  time  failed  to  materialize  and  the  Harper 
show  continued  to  do  bad  business.  I  had  a  talk  with  the 
boss  (Mrs.  Harper).  They  agreed  to  give  me  an  interest 
in  the  show  if  I  would  do  the  advance.  I  was  to  make 
the  arrangements  and  they  were  to  play  my  choice  of 
towns.  I  took  them  to  Burns,  via  Condon,  Fossil,  the 
John  Day  River  and  Canyon  City.  After  I  played  the 
big  Fourth  of  July  stunt  which  lasted  six  days  at  Burns, 
I  closed  with  them  and  took  up  a  homestead  in  the  moun- 
tains thirty  miles  from  Burns,  on  Goose  Flat. 

Goose  Flat  consisted  of  about  a  thousand  acres,  situated 
along  the  Silvies  River  in  a  canyon.  At  some  points  be- 
tween the  rim  rocks  it  was  two  miles  wide  with  some- 
where near  three  hundred  acres  of  good  bottom  land. 
After  living  on  it  six  months,  I  discovered  that  it  was  im- 
possible for  me  to  make  a  living  on  the  place  without 
plenty  of  cash  capital  and  a  few  strong  men  and  teams 
to  grub  sage  brush.  The  altitude  was  five  thousand  feet. 
One  day  a  rattler  bit  me  on  the  finger.  I  sucked  the  poi- 
son out  and  walked  thirty  miles  to  town.  I  was  alone  at 
the  ranch  and  my  nearest  neighbor  was  four  miles. 

My  sister  Nellie  and  three  children  had  moved  from 
Visalia,  California,  to  San  Francisco.  When  I  arrived  in 
Burns  from  the  ranch  I  received  a  letter  from  her  stating 
fhat  she  had  left  her  husband  and  did  not  know  what  she 


DOUBLING    BACK 


135 


was  going  to  do.  I  wired  for  her  to  start  for  Alturas, 
and  that  I  would  meet  her  and  the  children  there  with  a 
wagon  and  team,  which  would  convey  us  to  the  city  of 
Burns.  I  also  wrote  particulars  and  sent  money.  I  ex- 
plained that  we  could  make  a  good  home  in  Burns  and 
that  altogether  we  could  take  care  of  the  children  and  give 
them  a  start  in  life,  as  well  as  some  good  schooling.  She 
answered  that  they  would  come. 

I  drove  two  hundred  and  twenty-five  miles  from  Burns, 
Oregon,  to  Alturas,  California,  and  on  the  second  day 
after  my  arrival,  the  father  and  family  came  in  on  the 
stage  from  Redding.  I  was  not  expecting  the  father,  Rob- 
bins,  and  it  gave  me  something  of  a  shock.  He  had  a 
severe  attack  of  remorse  and  wanted  to  go  with  us.  I  se- 
cured an  extra  horse,  rigged 
up  a  spike  team  and  upon 
the  tenth  day  out  from 
Alturas  we  arrived  in 
Burns,  without  having  any 
serious  mishaps.  The  only 
inconveniences  we  suffered 
was  when  we  had  to  sleep  in 
the  haystacks  to  avoid  the 
bedbugs  at  Alkali  Lake.  At 
some  of  the  other  smaller 
ranches,  beds  were  scarce. 
Papa  Robbins,  sis  and  the 
children  enjoyed  the  hard- 
ships, sage  brush,  creeks, 
rocks,  mountains  and  tim- 


136  DOUBLING    BACK 

ber.    Their  appetites  were  keen  and  they  thought  the  ranch 
food  was  as  good  as  they  had  ever  tasted. 

At  Burns  I  established  the  "Cafe  de  Meade,"  which 
consisted  of  one  lunch  counter  and  four  stools.  Sis  started 
a  little  home  bakery  and  notion  goods  store  and  father 
Bobbins,  being  a  first-class  barber,  secured  a  partnership 
in  a  shop  on  a  fifty-fifty  basis,  without  having  to  furnish 
anything  but  tools.  Thus  we  were  very  comfortably  situ- 
ated and  got  along  very  nicely  until  spring.  Father  Bob- 
bins became  dissatisfied  and  got  the  horse  racing  fever.  I 
had  been  putting  on  plays  with  amateur  talent,  assisted 
by  my  sister  and  the  children.  Our  other  business  was 
not  flourishing.  In  order  to  make  some  cash  with  which 
to  stock  the  homestead  ranch  I  organized  a  dramatic  com- 
pany. To  do  so  I  sent  for  Paul,  my  sister's  oldest  son, 
who  was  now  a  professional  actor.  With  sister,  the  three 
children  and  three  good  amateurs  from  Burns,  Paul  Har- 
5vey  and  myself,  we  drove  over  nearly  all  of  the  wagon 
roads  in  Oregon  and  wound  up  at  Klamath  Falls.  The  ama- 
teurs returned  to  Burns.  "We  sold  our  outfit  and  with  Sis 
and  the  family  (except  father  Bobbins,  who  joined  us  at 
Bend  and  left  upon  our  arrival  at  Klamath  for  San  Fran- 
cisco), took  a  stage  ride  to  Pokegamma  and  a  train  ride 
to  Visalia.  I  have  never  seen  that  homestead  since,  but 
relinquished  it  to  Uncle  Sam,  with  its  rock  rim,  river,  sage 
brush  and  rattlesnakes. 


DOUBLING    BACK  137 


REMINISCENCES   ENROUTE   FROM  BURNS,   ORE- 
GON, TO  VISALIA,  CALIFORNIA 

We  got  stuck  in  the  Strawberry  mountain  mud.  The 
sheriff,  four  horses,  two  deputies,  one  murderer  and  five 
horse  thieves,  en  route  from  Burns  to  the  state  prison  at 
Salem,  pulled  us  out. 

Hank  Felton,  the  cowboy,  amateur  actor  and  his  team 
ran  away  while  descending  the  mountain  into  Bear  Valley 
and  scattered  our  whiskers,  wigs  and  wardrobes  in  grace- 
ful piles  for  a  mile  and  a  half.  We  saved  it  all  but  one 
stick  of  red  grease  paint  that  belonged  to  Hubert  Robbins, 
the  inf  antile-old-Kentucky-pickininny-impersonator,  my  sis- 
ter's  youngest  son. 

We  went  stone-broke  at  Prairie  City.  A  lady  who  had 
met  with  an  accident  with  a  runaway  horse  about  four 
miles  from  Burns,  several  months  previous,  and  whom  I 
assisted  in  town  with  my  spike  team  at  the  time  I  brought 
sis  and  the  family  from  Alturas,  staked  me  with  enough 
cash  to  get  me  to  the  next  stand.  She  just  happened  to  be 
visiting  at  Prairie  City. 

I  was  obliged  to  stand  the  landlord  off  at  another  time 
for  thirty  dollars'  worth  of  board.  I  did  not  have  a  baby's 
keep-sake-golden-locket  or  any  other  thing  to  shed  a  few 
tears  over  and  leave  as  security,  never  to  be  redeemed, 
but  paid  him  out  of  the  next  week's  receipts. 

At  a  baseball  game  while  in  Condon,  between  Fossil 
and  Condon,  we  all  rooted  for  Condon.  There  happened 
to  be  a  delegation  of  Fossilites  sitting  in  the  grandstand 


138  DOUBLING    BACK 

that  fell  down  during  the  excitement.  When  we  opened 
for  a  week's  engagement  in  Fossil  on  the  following  Mon- 
day evening  there  was  no  one  present  except  the  man  who 
owned  the  hall,  the  editor  and  his  family;  landlord,  cook 
and  waiter  from  the  hotel;  the  livery  stable  man,  where 
our  horses  boarded;  the  drugstore  man  and  his  wife,  who 
sold  reserved  seats  for  us,  and  some  bill  boys — all  compli- 
mentaries,  besides  some  that  were  given  away  for  furni- 
ture and  props.  I  think  there  was  three  dollars  in  cash. 
I  held  a  private  consultation  with  the  hall  man  (a  nice 
fellow)  and  he  said  that  he  would  only  charge  me  one 
dollar  for  the  hall  if  I  did  not  show  and  three  dollars  if 
I  did.  The  constable  wanted  five  dollars  license.  I  con- 
vinced him  that  if  I  gave  the  three  dollars  I  had  to  the 
hall  man  I  would  be  giving  a  free  show  and  he  couldn't 
charge  license  and  besides  I  had  to  pass  him  and  his  fam- 
ily into  the  show.  He  told  me  to  go  ahead  and  we  did. 
I  made  an  announcement  (very  strong)  that  we  would 
give  a  free  show  on  the  following  night  and  hoped  to  see 
the  hall  packed  to  overflowing.  I  also  thanked  those  pres- 
ent for  their  patronage,  and  proceeded  to  do  the  last  act, 
giving  as  good  a  performance  from  the  first  to  last  as  we 
knew  how,  just  as  if  we  were  perfectly  satisfied.  The 
next  morning  we  left  Fossil  before  daylight  and  drove  to 
Clarney's  Ferry  on  the  John  Day  River  and  rested  for 
the  balance  of  the  week.  I  returned  to  Fossil  several 
years  afterward  and  played  to  good  business  and  did  not 
give  out  but  two  complimentary  tickets.  They  did  not 
recognize  me  as  the  man  who  advertised  a  free  show  and 
failed  to  give  it.  I  then  thought  and  still  think  the  town, 
was  well  named. 


DOUBLING    BACK  139 

At  Clarney  a  rancher  turned  his  house  over  to  us  and 
we  gave  him  a  free  show  every  night.  He  was  a  widower 
with  no  children  and  gave  us  a  good  time.  He  also 
assisted  us  in  curing  up  a  very  sick  horse.  The  ranch, 
with  home-made  bathing  pools  and  the  river,  were  charm- 
ing, but  we  could  not  linger.  I  crossed  the  John  Day 
River  at  this  point  a  few  years  after.  The  ferry  and  the 
rancher  were  gone.  A  bridge  had  replaced  the  ferry. 

Prineville,  Oregon,  July  the  Fourth,  1904,  was  a  merry 
day.  After  it  was  all  over  we  purchased  a  camping  outfit 
and  departed  for  the  Desehutes  River  at  Bend.  We  wit- 
nessed worlds  of  beautiful  scenery,  camped,  fished  and 
gathered  wild  strawberries;  traveled  miles  and  miles 
through  sand  and  sage  brush  that  has  since  been  grubbed 
out  and  through  irrigation  made  to  produce  acres  upon 
acres  of  ever  green  alfalfa.  This  irrigation  comes  from 
the  wonderful  Deschutes  River,  which  never  misses  the 
water  that  has  caused  the  transformation  of  the  country. 
After  about  two  weeks  of  real  camp  life  we  drove  to  Sil- 
ver Lake,  intending  to  give  a  show  and  stop  at  the  hotel 
for  a  few  days,  in  order  to  sleep  in  a  real  bed  and  get 
rested  up  for  a  hard  trip  across  the  Klamath  reservation. 

Upon  our  arrival  at  Silver  Lake  we  discovered  that  the 
only  public  hall  the  town  had  ever  boasted  of  burned  down 
several  years  before,  on  a  Christmas  eve,  when  all  the  fam- 
ilies for  miles  around  were  assembled.  It  seemed  that 
some  man  at  the  rear  of  the  hall  wanted  to  get  a  better 
view  of  the  little  folks  that  were  gathered  around  the 
Christmas  tree,  and  when  he  stepped  upon  the  bench  his 
head  knocked  a  large  coal  oil  lamp  out  of  the  bracket  upon 


140 


DOUBLING    BACK 


the  floor  and  in  two  seconds  men,  women,  floor,  benches, 
Christmas  tree,  toys,  gifts  and  children  were  all  on  fire, 
with  only  one  small  door  through  which  to  make  their 
escape.  The  two  hundred  people  that  were  assembled 
became  frantic  and  forty-three  human  beings  perished. 
Almost  every  family  within  twenty  miles  mourned  a  lost 
one,  consequently,  the  town  never  rebuilt  the  hall  and 
never  had  had  a  general  public  gathering  within  doors 
since  that  fatal  night.  But  the  landlord  of  the  hotel  had 
an  empty  barn  on  the  corner  of  his  lot,  with  a  long  row 
of  stalls  on  one  side,  and  by  throwing  what  little  hay  there 
was  from  the  part  where  the  hay  was  kept  upon  the 
ground,  we  saw  that  we  could  convert  that  part  of  the 
barn  into  a  real  opera  house.  After  consulting  several 

citizens  we  proceeded  to 
sweep  the  old  hay,  that  was 
full  of  sneeze  weed,  up  into 
two  corners  and  built  a 
temporary  stage  with  horse 
stalls  for  dressing  rooms) 
and  lanterns  for  footlights. 
"We  advertised  with  small 
bills,  hung  a  row  of  Jap- 
anese lanterns  on  the  side 
of  the  barn  toward  the 
street;  made  seats  out  of 
kegs,  boxes,  blocks  of  wood 
and  old  boards.  But  we 
neglected  to  sprinkle  the 
ground  so  as  to  lay  the 


DOUBLING    BACK  141 

sneeze  weed.  Imagine  the  result.  "We  played  "The 
Fatal  "Wedding"  while  the  actors,  the  audience  and 
the  horses  were  sneezing.  Every  horse  sneezed  ten 
times  a  minute.  The  audience  was  sneezing,  crying 
and  laughing,  which  formed  a  loud  and  boisterous  chorus, 
and  the  actors  were  playing  codas  at  the  end  of  every 
speech.  But  the  audience  came  back  the  next  night  with 
many  neighbors  and  we  played  "Old  Kentucky"  with 
Black  Bess.  The  sneeze  weed  had  been  well  moistened 
and  kept  its  place. 

We  crossed  the  Klamath  reservation  to  Crater  Lake, 
played  in  an  agricultural  implement  warehouse  at  Fort 
Klamath  to  well  educated  and  behaved  Indians,  then  con- 
tinued to  Klamath  Falls.  There  we  sold  our  outfit  and 
arrived  in  Visalia,  where  we  reorganized. 


SHORT  LIVED  SUCCESS 

We  opened  the  Meade  &  Hiarvey  show  at  Visalia  and 
toured  the  valley  towns  very  successfully.  But  the 
soubrette's  (Mattie  Lloyd  Luce's)  mother  wanted  to 
become  an  angel  for  us  and  said  that  if  we  would  close 
and  come  to  San  Francisco  for  the  holidays  she  would 
finance  the  show  to  the  extent  of  five  hundred  dollars  for 
a  fourth  interest  and  be  a  silent  partner.  This  looked 
like  a  good  thing.  We  closed  the  show  while  doing  well, 
went  to  'Frisco,  had  several  talks  with  the  angel,  but  the 
five  hundred  did  not  materialize.  Our  capital  disappeared 
while  holding  up  actors.  So  Meade  and  Harvey  joined 
the  Tom  Bates  company,  in  support  of  Claire  Washington 
(some  relation  to  George). 


142  DOUBLING    BACK 


TOM  BATES— SAND  CRABS— SUCCESS 

Tom  Bates,  who  advertised  himself  as  the  homeliest 
advance  agent  on  the  Pacific  coast,  organized  a  dramatic 
company.  In  this  company  were  two  good  actresses,  Miss 
Margaret  lies  and  Miss  Merle  Stanton.  There  were  also 
in  the  company  Paul  Harvey  and  I.  Bates  used  the 
Meade  &  Harvey's  scenery,  props  and  specialties.  We 
all  gave  excellent  support  to  Miss  Washington,  the  star 
of  the  company.  The  show  was  a  success,  financially  and 
otherwise,  from  January  until  June  1905.  About  that 
time  Miss  Washington,  Miss  lies,  " General"  (?)  Tom 
Bates  and  I  had  a  very  wordy  battle  on  board  the  train 
one  day,  in  which  the  Irish-English  actress  came  off  vic- 
torious. This  battle  resulted  in  crippling  the  Bates  show, 
however,  for  I  gave  notice  and  quit,  taking  with  me  my 
scenery  and  props.  Margaret  lies  and  Paul  Harvey  also 
gave  notice  and  quit. 

Miss  lies  and  I  now  formed  a  partnership  and  organ- 
ized a  dramatic  stock  company  known  as  the  Margaret 
lies  company.  On  June  17th  (Bunker  Hill  Day)  we 
opened  a  summer  season  at  Coronado  (tent  city)  across 
the  bay  from  San  Diego.  Here  we  entertained  the  guests 
at  the  Coronado  hotel  and  the  tent  cityites  for  four  weeks 
in  connection  with  Olhmeyer's  famous  band.  Our  mutual 
friend,  Tom  Bates,  was  playing  an  unsuccessful  engage- 
ment in  San  Diego  and  termed  us  the  * '  sand  crabs. ' '  Upon 
finishing  our  engagement  at  Coronado  we  opened  a  stock 
engagement  with  R.  Beers  Loos,  in  a  small  theatre — the 


DOUBLING    BACK  143 

"Bijou" — with  seating  capacity  of  less  than  five  hundred 
people.  This  stock  company  was  a  success  from  the  start. 
The  "sand  crabs"  crabbed  Tommy  Bates'  business  while 
the  police  stopped  Brother  Loos  from  selling  tickets  for 
"standing  room  only"  every  night  in  San  Diego. 


ANOTHER  ANGEL  BUTTS  IN 

Mr.  A.  Fountain  was  a  good  restaurant-man-on-the- 
small-scale,  in  Los  Angeles.  The  owner  of  the  lease  on 
the  "Bijou"  also  lived  in  that  city.  R.  Beers  Loos  was 
the  local  manager.  On  the  strength  of  the  business  we 
were  doing,  the  owner  at  Los  Angeles  caught  Mr.  Foun- 
tain, another  angel  who  wanted  to  become  a  show  man, 
and  sold  him  the  lease  with  the  contents  of  the  theatre. 
Fountain  investigated,  found  everything  as  represented, 
paid  one  thousand  dollars  down  and  took  charge  of  the 
box  office.  Loos  was  out  of  a  job  and  we  engaged  him  as 
our  manager.  We  had  been  playing  on  a  fifty-fifty  basis 
and  now  we  wanted  a  new  contract  with  the  new  manager, 
Mr.  Fountain,  and  it  must  be  sixty-five  thirty-five.  When 
Mr.  Loos  told  him  this  and  stated  that  our  present  con- 
tract would  expire  in  another  week,  Fountain  nearly  ex- 
pired on  the  spot  and  after  getting  his  breath  he  gasped: 
* '  I  thought  the  stock  company  went  with  the  lease  and  the 
theatre." 

Fountain  made  an  awful  howl,  but  saw  that  he  would 
have  to  come  to  our  terms,  realizing  that  he  had  no  claim 
upon  us.  We  agreed  to  stay  an  extra  week  with  him,  on 


144  DOUBLING    BACK 

the  old  terms  and  at  the  same  time  began  to  look  about  for 
a  new  location.  Fountain  went  to  Loos  and  in  some  man- 
ner he  compromised  with  the  original  owner  and  got  most 
of  his  money  back,  but  he  treated  us  shabbily.  He  returned 
and  kept  silent,  let  us  finish  the  week  out  and  when  we 
came  to  the  theatre  on  Monday  evening,  at  seven  o'clock, 
we  discovered  the  following  notice  on  the  door,  "  Closed 
for  repairs."  The  " angel"  had  flown  to  parts  unknown. 


CONTINUED  SUCCESS  AND— 

The  Margaret  lies  company  played  a  successful  stock 
engagement  in  San  Diego  until  December,  1906,  in  a 
theatre  which  we  made  out  of  a  large  blacksmith  and 
machine  shop.  It  was  mission  style,  nicely  equipped  and 
named  "Rudwin,"  but  is  now  known  as  the  "Empire." 

Our  success  was  so  great  that  the  two  vaudeville 
houses — the  Pickwick  and  the  Grand — decided  to  put  in 
dramatic  stock.  The  Isis  was  leased  for  a  short  term  to 
the  Frank  Cooley  company.  Four  stock  companies  in 
a  city  the  size  of  San  Diego  was  going  some,  but  we  held 
our  own.  "We  engaged  high  priced  actors,  met  competi- 
tion by  putting  on  royalty  plays,  increased  our  expense, 
improved  our  theatre  and  played  to  capacity.  The  added 
expense,  however,  kept  eating  into  our  bank  roll.  George 
Clancy  wanted  to  buy  our  lease  and  transfer  the  house 
into  vaudeville  and  we  sold  to  him.  The  Margaret  lies 
company  closed  temporarily.  Clancy  opened  with  vaude- 
ville on  a  bleak  December  evening,  but  succumbed  to  poor 
business  at  the  end  of  three  weeks.  The  theatre  then  went 


MAEGAEET    TLES 


DOUBLING    BACK  145 

into  the  moving  picture  business,  while  Meade  and  lies 
went  defunct,  as  Clancy  couldn't  pay. 

I  was  on  the  verge  of  a  nervous  breakdown.  I  went  to 
'Frisco  and  accepted  an  engagement  as  a  producer  for  a 
stock  company  at  the  Park  theatre,  in  Alameda.  Miss  lies 
joined  the  Constance  Crawley  company  and  went  east, 
playing  stock  in  New  Orleans  and  other  southern  cities. 

It  was  hard  after  being  popular  and  successful  to  have 
competition  close  you  out  for  the  want  of  capital.  After 
we  had  worked  a  few  months  for  a  salary,  Miss  lies  re- 
turned to  San  Francisco  and  we  reorganized  with  the  aid 
of  John  Houston,  of  Klamath  Falls.  We  opened  on  his 
1 ' Kerosene  circuit"  in  June,  1907.  With  a  very  strong 
company  we  played  to  big  business  in  Klamath  and  the 
surrounding  towns. 

"MARGARET.  ILES 

With  Miles  of  Smiles." 

Mighty  hard  sledding  for  a  good  many  years, 

A  good  many  hardships  and  very  few  tears, 

Right  willing  to  smile  'midst  it  all; 

Good  natured  at  all  times,  in  spite  of  a  fall. 

Allowing  for  mishaps,  faults  and  all  that, 

Real  merit  exists  and  we  take  off  our  hat, 

Especially  now,  when  climbing-  so  fast 

The  ladder  that  brings  some  fame  at  last. 

Indeed  let  us  hope  that  great  fortune  comes  too— 

Long  may  God's  blessing  rest  upon  you; 

Ev'ry  day  that's  my  prayer  and  I  tell  you,  "pard"— 

Separation  and  affliction,  just  now  seems  hard. 


146  DOUBLING    BACK 


DAN  MALLOY— HIS  CHECK  AND  HIS  GROG 

I  first  knew  Dan  Malloy,  sheepman  of  Lakeview,  in 
1901.  He  was  following  an  imported  pugilist  from  one 
saloon  to  another,  getting  more  and  more  groggy  at  every 
step.  Finally  Dan  got  so  drunk  that  he  insisted  on  having 
a  fight  with  the  gentlemanly  pugilist  and  kept  slapping 
him  at  every  opportunity,  until  at  last  the  pugilist  landed 
on  Dan  just  once.  He  came  to  the  next  morning  with  the 
most  beautiful  pair  of  black  eyes  that  were  ever  seen  in 
Lake  County — all  due  to  grog. 

Dan  was  passing  through  Klamath  Falls  in  1907. 
While  we  were  playing  there  on  the  "kerosene  circuit." 
Dan,  being  slightly  under  the  influence  of  grog,  insisted 
that  I  should  come  to  Lakeview  and  play  a  week's  engage- 
ment. He  said :  ' '  The  livery  stable  opera  house  has  been 
replaced  with  a  regular  opera  that  has  opera  chairs  from 
Grand  Rapids  and  a  stage  with  scenery  from  Chicago." 
I  told  him  that  I  could  not  afford  to  take  the  company 
a  hundred  miles  overland  and  run  chances  of  not  doing 
business.  "How  much  do  you  want?"  he  asked,  and  I 
replied:  "I  can  not  take  the  chance  unless  I  am  pretty 
sure  of  playing  to  seven  hundred  dollars  on  the  week." 
He  pulled  out  his  check  book,  wrote  me  a  check  for  that 
amount  and  handed  it  to  Mr.  Houston  with  this  remark: 
"Put  that  in  your  safe  and  if  Meade  doesn't  play  to  more 
than  seven  hundred  dollars  in  a  week  at  Lakeview,  you 
give  him  that  check."  We  went  to  Lakeview  and  I  think 
that  we  played  to  over  a  thousand  dollars. 


DOUBLING    BACK  147 

We  toured  Modoc,  Lassen  and  Plumas  Counties  with  a 
four-horse  team  and  wagon.  While  in  Modoc  County  I 
heard  about  the  Hbag  mining  district  and  asked  several 
people  how  it  happened  to  be  named  Hoag,  but  every  one 
that  I  inquired  of  happened  to  be  a  new  comer  and  could 
not  tell  me  the  story  that  would  have  been  of  great  ad- 
vantage to  me  and  mine. 


WINTER  OF  1907-08 

After  touring  Modoc,  Lassen  and  Plumas  Counties,  we 
reached  the  main  line  of  the  Southern  Pacific  at  Truckee ; 
spent  a  day  at  Lake  Tahoe  and  for  several  weeks  toured 
south  as  far  as  Bakersfield  and  west  to  Coalinga,  where 
we  met  with  a  peculiar  circumstance. 

I  discovered  Coalinga  as  a  good  show  town  in  1904  and 
played  there  in  an  old  barn,  before  any  dramatic  show 
or  one-night  stander  ever  booked  in  there.  Consequently, 
I  thought  I  owned  the  town.  On  this  occasion,  which  was 
my  second  visit,  the  town  had  grown  and  improved  a  great 
deal  and  I  was  elated  at  the  signs  of  the  big  business  we 
were  about  to  experience.  The  owner  of  the  old  barn  had 
made  it  look  very  much  like  an  opera  house  and  rented 
it  for  ten  dollars  per  night. 

We  had  a  fellow  nicknamed  "Simp"  with  the  show, 
who  was  always  rubbing  some  one  the  wrong  way  and  was 
always  getting  himself  or  some  one  else  into  trouble.  I 
was  on  the  door  and  the  people  had  not  flocked  to  the  show. 
At  8  o'clock  there  was  just  sixteen  dollars  and  thirty-five 


148  DOUBLING    BACK 

cents  in  the  house  when  the  constable  called  and  requested 
that  I  should  pay  him  the  license.  I  asked  him  how  much 
it  was  and  he  replied  that  it  was  "ten  dollars."  "Simp" 
let  out  a  yell  and  repeated  the  remark  with  a  loud  guffaw. 
That  made  the  constable  angry  and  me,  too,  but  I  did  not 
show  it.  I  asked  him  if  he  charged  a  license  to  people 
who  gave  a  free  show.  He  said,  "No,  of  course  not."  I 
wanted  to  try  an  experiment,  so  asked  him  to  wait  a  few 
minutes.  I  left  "Simp"  on  the  door,  went  back  on  the 
stage  and  made  a  short  speech  to  the  audience,  holding 
a  hat  with  the  sixteen  dollars  and  thirty-five  cents  in  my 
hand.  I  told  them  that  the  constable  was  at  the  door  try- 
ing to  hold  me  up  for  ten  dollars  license  and  that  in  addi- 
tion to  the  ten  dollars  for  hall  rent,  was  more  than  I  had 
taken  in,  therefore  I  would  give  a  free  show.  I  also  told 
them  that  I  was  going  to  distribute  the  sixteen  dollars  and 
thirty-five  cents  promiscuously  through  the  audience  and 
after  the  second  act  I  would  pass  the  hat  and  if  they  liked 
the  performance  they  could  contribute  something  to  help, 
the  actors  to  pay  their  board.  I  distributed  the  silver, 
went  back  to  the  door  and  found  "Simp"  and  the  con- 
stable in  a  hot  argument.  A  large  crowd  had  gathered  to 
see  the  fun  that  was  anticipated.  I  told  them  that  it  was 
all  off,  that  I  had  given  everybody  their  money  back. 
Then  I  called  out  "free  admission"  and  invited  the  con- 
stable and  the  entire  crowd  in  to  see  the  performance,  con- 
tinuing to  cry  out  "free  admission,  free  admission."  I 
also  sent  "Simp"  and  a  bunch  of  small  boys  over  the 
town  and  instructed  them  to  yell  everywhere  that  the 
show  was  free.  It  wasn't  long  until  the  opera  house  was 


DOUBLING    BACK  149 

pretty  well  filled  and  we  proceeded  with  the  play.  It  was 
a  good  play  and  after  the  second  act  four  actors  carrying 
hats  passed  through  the  audience  and  we  collected  seventy- 
one  dollars  and  fifteen  cents.  We  played  to  capacity  busi- 
ness for  the  balance  of  the  week,  while  the  town  council 
reduced  the  license  to  five  dollars  a  night  because  we 
charged  only  fifty  cents  admission. 

About  December  15th  we  went  into  stock  at  Swain's 
theatre,  in  Santa  Cruz,  for  six  weeks.  We  had  a  "josh" 
Christmas  tree  to  amuse  ourselves.  There  were  fifteen  in 
the  troupe  and  ten  cents  was  the  limit  that  any  one  could 
expend  for  a  present.  With  a  big  feed,  it  made  one  of 
the  merriest  Christmas  parties  that  I  have  ever  known. 

Mack  Swain  could  only  give  us  six  weeks  as  he  had 
booked  Charley  Pyle's  Dramatic  company.  Charley  had 
represented  that  his  company  was  very  superior  to  the 
Margaret  lies  company  and  agreed  to  play  at  fifty-fifty 
when  we  were  playing  at  sixty-five  thirty-five.  We  had 
built  up  a  nice  business  and  Swain  could  have  canceled 
Pyle,  but  Pyle  had  more  wind  than  I  did,  so  we  went  to 
the  Marguarita  theatre,  at  Eureka.  Pyle  opened  in  Swain's 
and  Mack  closed  him  before  the  week  was  out,  while  we 
sailed  along  nicely  at  the  Marguarita  for  twelve  weeks. 


EXPERIENCES  IN  COOS  COUNTY,  OEEGON 

We  left  Eureka,  California,  May  1,  1908.  We  then 
toured  Humboldt  County  and  took  an  overland  trip  up 
the  coast  to  Crescent  City.  From  there  we  went  over  the 


10 


150  DOUBLING    BACK 

mountains  to  Grants  Pass  and  north  on  the  railroad  to 
Drain.  From  Drain  we  staged  it  to  Marshfield,  Oregon, 
wagons  to  Scottsburg,  a  steamer  to  Gardiner,  and  down 
the  Umpqua  to  the  beach;  along  the  beach  on  the  wide- 
tired  wagons  that  carried  us  past  wrecked  vessels  to  Coos 
Bay,  and  the  little  gasoline  launch  Gasco  landed  us  at 
last  safely  upon  the  wharf  at  the  thriving  little  city  of 
Marshfield,  Coos  County,  Oregon. 

After  our  opening  night,  at  the  Masonic  opera  house 
in  Marshfield,  our  week  was  a  grand  success.  "We  made 
many  acquaintances  and  friends  and  established  ourselves 
thoroughly  as  a  good  show. 

At  Bandon,  Myrtle  Point,  Coquille  and  North  Bend 
we  did  the  same  thing.  We  played  a  week's  successful 
engagement  in  each  town  and  then  took  a  lay  off  of  four 
weeks  and  went  upon  a  camping,  fishing  and  hunting  ex- 
pedition up  the  South  Fork  of  the  Coquille  River,  with 
John  Warner,  of  Roland  Prairie,  as  guide.  We  had  a 
glorious  outing  with  much  fish  and  some  deer. 


"HE'S  UNRAVELING" 

We  were  all  pretty  green  at  deer  shootin'  and  were 
very  anxious  to  get  a  shot  at  one.  So  Mr.  Warner  ar- 
ranged this  nicely  for  us.  He  stationed  six  of  us  along 
the  river  about  two  hundred  feet  apart,  then  he  took  his 
dog  and  went  up  into  the  timber.  In  about  an  hour  we 
heard  the  dog  barking  and  the  brush  cracking.  In  a  few 
minutes  down  the  hill  comes  a  big  buck  plunging  into  the 


— 


DOUBLING    BACK  151 

water,  and  running  down  stream  in  the  shallow  water  he 
escaped  around  a  bend  in  the  river.  Each  one  of  us  fired 
not  less  than  five  shots  apiece  at  him  without  ever  scratch- 
ing his  hide.  It  was  so  much  fun  and  "Warner  laughed 
so  hard  that  we  begged  for  another  chance.  The  next  day 
we  tried  it  again.  This  time  "Warner  himself  got  a  shot 
at  the  deer  before  it  struck  the  river  and  wounded  the 
buck.  By  the  time  the  animal  arrived  in  the  water,  just 
opposite  to  where  Joe  Thompson  was  stationed,  it  was 
somewhat  out  of  wind  and  stopped  to  catch  its  breath. 
Joe  took  two  or  three  shots;  Herb  Cramer  took  two  or 
three  more  shots  from  down  the  river  and  Wallie  Howe 
took  about  as  many  from  up  the  river.  Joe  ran  out  upon 
the  sand  bar  and  shouted:  "Don't  shoot,  don't  shoot,  I've 
got  him,  I've  got  him.  He's  unraveling.  Can't  you  see 
he's  unraveling?"  The  deer's  entrails  were  hanging  out, 
but  he  started  up  the  river.  A  cartridge  was  caught  in 
Joe's  gun.  The  rest  of  us  had  come  down  the  river  to 
help,  and  we  all  took  a  few  shots.  The  dog  caught  the 
deer  in  the  shallow  water  and  the  poor  animal,  exhausted 
from  fright  and  loss  of  blood,  plunged  into  deep  water 
and  the  dog  drowned  him  in  a  whirlpool.  It  is  the  biggest 
wonder  in  the  world  that  one  of  us  was  not  killed.  Joe 
claimed  the  buck,  dressed  him,  slung  him  across  his  back 
and  carried  him  into  camp  as  the  champion  deer  slayer 
of  the  Margaret  lies  show. 


152  DOUBLING    BACK 


EOTATION  STOCK 

After  our  camping  trip  we  arranged  to  play  Coos 
County  for  an  indefinite  period,  playing  each  town  once 
a  week,  with  headquarters  at  Marshfield,  where  we  played 
every  Friday  and  Saturday  nights. 

Bandon  was  a  favorite  town  and  we  performed  there 
every  Wednesday  night,  in  the  old  upstairs  opera  house 
over  Gross  Brothers'  place  of  business,  under  the  man- 
agement of  genial,  jovial,  rustling  Jimmie  Mars.  Our 
business  in  Bandon  was  a  great  success  with  Jamison, 
Page,  Munck  and  their  families  occupying  the  front  row 
of  reserved  seats,  where  they  could  see  the  play  and  join 
in  the  hilarity.  Behind  them  sat  the  Gallier  guests,  the 
life-saving  crew  and  all  the  river  steamboat  men,  logging 
and  saw  mill  employees  and  their  families. 

All  of  the  towns  in  the  county  were  mighty  good  to 
us  and  never  failed  to  accommodate  us  but  once,  and  that 
was  on  Tuesday  night  in  Coquille.  We  were  playing  Rip; 
Van  Winkle  at  Coquille.  The  electric  lights  went  out  just 
as  Rip  lay  down  to  take  his  long  sleep,  and  they  refused 
to  come  on  again.  The  band  boys,  under  whose  auspices 
we  were  playing,  telephoned,  but  they  could  not  get  any 
one  to  repair  the  damage.  However,  they  supplied  plenty 
of  candles  at  our  request  and  old  Rip  awoke  by  candle 
light  and  finished  the  play  after  walking  on  a  few  tacks, 
barefooted,  that  could  not  be  seen  by  the  dim  light  of 
the  candles.  The  telephone  repair  man  sent  word  that 
he  had  gone  to  bed  and  the  show  people  must  get  along 


DOUBLING    BACK  153 

any  way  they  could.  I  had  neglected  to  give  him  a  com- 
plimentary ticket,  so  he  did  not  have  much  respect  for 
Coquille  citizens. 

We  were  having  such  continued  success  that  one  of  the 
members  of  our  company  thought  he  could  do  as  well. 
Accordingly  he  sent  to  'Frisco  for  a  bunch  of  actors.  At 
the  same  time  a  retired  actor  at  North  Bend  got  some 
backers  and  went  to  San  Francisco  and  returned  with  a 
full  acting  company.  I  thought  it  best  to  let  the  company 
which  our  ex-member  had  organized  and  the  retired  actor's 
company  fight  it  out  between  themselves.  The  rainy  sea- 
son was  coming  on  and  one  company  could  not  more  than 
make  expenses,  let  alone  three. 


THE  LOST  CHANNEL  MINE 

While  we  were  out  camping  we  met  Oscar  Whittier 
Morris,  hermit,  scout,  guide,  hunter,  trapper  and  miner. 
He  got  me  interested  in  his  Lost  Channel  Mining  claims 
and  had  entertained  me  wonderfully  by  washing  out  some 
gold  dust  and  escorting  me  over  a  humming  bird  trail  and 
a  bumble  bee's  path.  He  made  me  a  proposition  in  regard 
to  the  claims.  When  the  other  two  troupes  landed  in  the 
county,  I  accepted  his  offer  and  the  Margaret  lies  com- 
pany went  up  in  the  mountains  and  became  gold  miners. 
One  of  the  other  companies  broke  up  in  a  drunken  row  at 
the  end  of  the  first  week  and  the  other  one  broke  up  at 
the  end  of  three  weeks  on  account  of  rain  and  bad 


154  DOUBLING    BACK 

We  stored  three  tons  of  provisions  in  an  old  shack  at 
the  end  of  the  wagon  road  and  packed  it  in  to  the  claims 
on  pack  horses,  a  distance  of  three  miles.  We  lived  four 
months  in  the  shacks  at  the  placer  claims,  and  enjoyed 
the  hospitality  of  Morris  Brothers'  ranch  and  of  Frank 
and  Whit  Morris  in  particular. 

We  built  flumes,  dug  tunnels  and  ditches,  ground  sluiced, 
killed  an  elk  and  a  few  deer,  and  spilled  the  wheelbarrow — 
which  Joe  Thompson  cut  down  to  fit  the  tunnel — over  the 
dump.  The  women  folks  rustled  hot  coffee  for  Whittier 
and  the  boys,  and  during  the  sixteen  weeks  we  ate  up  all 
of  the  provisions,  besides  the  fresh  meat  we  killed.  We 
burned  down  an  eight  foot  white  cedar  tree,  two  hundred 
and  eighty-five  feet  long.  We  got  less  than  one  ounce  of 
gold,  but  we  had  a  good  time  in  the  forest.  We  found  a 
much  needed  rest  if  we  did  not  find  gold.  The  Lost 
Channel  is  still  there  and  some  one  will  find  it  some  day. 
It  was  a  common  thing  to  pick  up  a  small  boulder  that 
looked  like  it  was  worth  $15,000,  but  was  not  worth  a 
penny. 

We  came  out  of  the  mountains  in  March,  1909,  and 
played  the  county  with  a  week  stand  in  each  town.  Then 
we  went  overland  down  the  coast. 


THE  COACH  AND  FOUR 

We  played  Klamath  Falls  railroad  week,  June,  1909. 
Then  we  purchased  four  horses  and  a  big  coach  from  the 
retiring  stage  company  and  covered  all  of  the  wagon  roads 


DOUBLING    BACK  155 

in  Plumas,  Lassen  and  Modoc  Counties  of  California,  as 
well  as  Klamath,  Lake,  Harney,  Grant  and  Crook  Counties 
of  Oregon.  In  Modoc  County  I  again  heard  about  the 
Hoag  mining  district  near  Fort  Bidwell,  but  I  was  too 
busy  with  the  four  horses,  training  the  actors,  building 
stages  and  opera  houses,  putting  up  scenery,  securing 
props,  packing  up  and  unpacking,  to  think  of  anything 
else,  so  again  I  missed  discovering  something  that  would 
have  been  of  great  value  to  me  and  mine.  The  greatest 
pleasure  I  had  was  in  driving  those  four  horses  from  four- 
teen to  fifty-four  miles  a  day.  Even  that  used  to  get  tire- 
some. We  had  a  grand  and  successful  tour.  After  play- 
ing the  fair  date  at  Prineville  we  hired  a  man  to  drive 
our  coach  and  four  to  Coos  County,  while  we  railroaded 
into  Portland  and  sailed  on  the  steamer  Breakwater  for 
our  beloved  Coos  Bay.  We  played  rotation  stock  and  vis- 
ited the  Lost  Channel  mines  for  a  few  weeks.  Then  we 
sold  our  coach  and  four.  In  May,  1910,  we  left  Coos 
County  again  and  went  up  the  coast  and  out  to  the  rail- 
road via  the  Siuslaw  River  to  Eugene.  After  we  played 
Eugene,  Albany  and  Salem  we  jumped  to  Condon,  Mor- 
row County.  Here  we  again  purchased  four  horses  and 
a  wagon  and  repeated  our  successes,  covering  the  same 
territory.  We  played  the  fair  date  at  Prineville,  drove 
to  Condon,  traded  our  teams  and  wagon  for  town  lots  and 
went  into  stock  at  the  Bijou  theatre  in  Walla  Walla, 
Washington,  in  November,  1910. 


156  DOUBLING    BACK 


THE  FATE  OP  DANIEL  HOAG 

(My  Grandfather) 

My  grandfather,  Daniel  Hoag,  was  born  May  8,  1808, 
in  Duchess  County,  New  York.  He  was  killed  by  hostile 
Indians  in  Coleman  valley,  near  Fort  Bidwell,  California, 
on  May  28,  1868. 

My  grandfather  left  his  family  in  Illinois  in  1849  and 
crossed  the  plains  with  an  ox  team  to  the  gold  fields  of 
California.  He  mined  on  the  Yuba  Eiver,  near  Marys- 
ville,  and  wrote  very  loving  and  affectionate  letters  to  his 
wife  and  family  until  the  breaking  out  of  the  Civil  "War. 
From  that  time  until  August,  1910,  all  trace  of  him  was 
lost.  His  wife  and  children  and  other  relatives  in  the 
east  never  heard  of  him  again  except  in  this  way :  About 
the  year  1870  a  man  named  Whittemore,  from  California, 
visited  Sandwich,  Illinois,  and  reported  that  a  man  named 
Daniel  Hoag  had  been  killed  by  the  Indians  in  California, 
but  he  did  not  tell  any  of  the  details.  The  relatives  heard 
this  bit  of  news  only  after  Whittemore  had  departed  for 
the  west. 

The  Hoag  family  met  and  did  all  in  their  power,  with 
limited  means,  to  gain  some  information,  but  to  no  avail. 
The  years  passed  and  all  of  Daniel  Hoag's  family  died 
except  the  youngest  daughter,  Mrs.  Charlotte  Kelts,  of 
Chicago. 

In  August,  1910,  I  was  sitting  at  the  supper  table,  at 
the  hotel  in  Fort  Bidwell,  where  the  Margaret  Hes  com- 
pany was  playing  an  engagement.  I  got  into  convena- 


DOUBLING    BACK  157 

tion  with  an  expert  mining  man  who  sat  at  the  same  table. 
I  asked  him  how  the  Hoag  mining  district  was  getting  along. 
Miss  lies,  who  had  heard  my  sister,  Helen  Harvey,  and  me 
speak  about  the  Hoag  mines,  spoke  up  and  said:  "That 
was  your  grandfather's  name,  wasn't  it,  Mr.  Meade?"  I 
replied  that  it  was  and  asked  the  gentleman  if  he  knew 
how  the  district  happened  to  be  named  ' '  Hoag. ' '  Then  he 
told  me  this  little  story: 

"It  was  named  after  an  old  scout,  guide  and  pioneer 
settler  of  Coleman  valley  named  Daniel  Hoag.  He  was 
employed  by  the  government  to  find  Indians,  report  their 
whereabouts  to  the  fort  and  guide  the  soldiers  to  their 
hiding  places.  He  was  also  an  old  prospector  and  found 
some  very  rich  gold  deposits  on  one  of  his  trips.  H,e 
brought  some  of  it  into  camp  and  afterwards  made  many 
trips  to  the  spot,  but  always  went  alone  and  at  night.  I 
think  it  was  in  May,  1868,  while  he  was  returning  from 
one  of  these  trips  that  he  discovered  a  bunch  of  hostile 
Indians  which  he  reported.  He  told  two  of  his  most  in- 
timate friends  that  when  he  came  home  from  this  expedi- 
tion with  the  soldiers  he  would  guide  them  to  the  gold 
ledge,  and  said:  ' There  was  gold  enough  for  them  all.' 
Alas!  while  riding  through  Coleman  valley  about  fifty 
yards  in  advance  of  the  squad  of  soldiers,  a  shot  was  heard 
and  he  was  seen  to  fall  from  his  horse.  He  had  been  shot 
in  the  back  of  the  head  from  an  ambush  and  was  supposed 
to  have  been  killed  by  an  Indian.  Since  that  day  men  in 
this  county  have  searched  for  the  Hoag  mine.  A  sheep1 
herder  once  found  some  quartz  a  few  miles  from  Bidwell. 
The  people  of  Modoc  County  staked  out  claims  all  over 


158  DOUBLING    BACK 

that  mountain.  Out  of  respect  for  the  old  fellow  whose 
mine  they  have  never  found  they  named  it  the  Hoag  Min- 
ing District." 

I  could  hardly  recover  my  speech.  Thus  had  I  dis- 
covered the  fate  of  my  grandfather.  I  found  a  great 
many  old  settlers  in  and  about  Fort  Bidwell  who  remem- 
bered, loved  and  respected  the  old  gentleman.  They  told 
me  all  they  could  about  him;  of  his  many  Indian  battles, 
of  his  gold  mine,  and  how  they  had  searched  for  it  in  vain. 
They  said  he  was  a  very  quiet  and  melancholy  man  and 
never  mentioned  his  past. 

His  business  partner  in  cattle,  government  land  and  so 
forth,  was  W.  B.  Whittemore.  They  lived  in  a  log  cabin 
and  kept  travelers.  After  Hoag's  death  Whittemore  lived 
in  the  same  cabin  on  the  one  hundred  and  sixty  acres  of 
land  that  would  have  been  my  grandfather's.  After 
grandfather's  death  the  land  was  surveyed,  Whittemore 
was  the  squatter  and  sold  a  relinquishment  to  the  man 
that  proved  up  on  it,  for  eight  hundred  dollars. 

I  searched  the  records  at  Yreka  and  found  grand- 
father's will,  dated  January  5,  1868,  in  which  he  left  all 
of  his  property,  consisting  of  live  stock  and  cash  to  his 
partner,  W.  B.  Whittemore,  providing  he  carried  out  the 
contents  of  said  will.  Otherwise  everything  was  to  be  sold 
and  the  returns  given  to  the  first  Masonic  lodge  organized 
in  Surprise  valley. 

The  will  never  mentioned  his  family,  and  two  years 
after  his  death  Whittemore  entered  the  will  for  probate. 
It  was  denied  by  the  court  and  pronounced  illegal  by  the 
judge.  In  the  meantime  Whittemore  took  all  of  the  cattle 


DOUBLING    BACK  159 

and  the  cash,  and  when  the  Masons  organized  a  lodge  at 
Cedarville  he  presented  Daniel  Hoag's  rifle  and  bullet 
mould  to  the  lodge  as  a  gift  from  Brother  Hoag,  who  was 
killed  by  the  Indians  in  May,  1868. 

The  old  pioneers  told  me  that  Whittemore  had  nothing 
when  Daniel  Hoag  died,  but  he  became  a  very  rich  man 
before  he  died  and  it  cost  his  estate  thirty  thousand  dol- 
lars just  to  settle  it,  as  he  left  no  direct  heirs.  I  am  afraid 
that  I  made  my  discovery  too  late,  although  I  wrote  my 
Aunt  (Daniel  Hoag's  daughter)  all  about  the  matter  and 
she  came  to  Modoc  County  and  placed  the  case  in  the 
hands  of  a  lawyer  and  it  is  still  unsettled. 

It  was  a  clear  case  of  fraud  on  the  part  of  Whitte- 
more. He  having  been  a  business  partner  with  my  grand- 
father for  years,  intercepted  letters  from  Illinois  that  led 
grandfather  to  believe  that  his  family  had  forgotten  him. 
It  was  either  that  or  the  letters  were  lost  in  transporta- 
tion and  the  long  years  of  separation  caused  him  to  for- 
get early  ties  and  a  family  left  behind,  as  many  of  the 
early  settlers  were  known  to  have  done. 

Some  of  the  old  timers  even  told  me  that  it  was; 
thought  that  Whittemore  hired  a  disreputable  soldier  to 
kill  Daniel  Hoag  and  a  certain  soldier  was  heard  to  re- 
mark that  he  would  get  the  old  man  on  some  Indian  ex- 
pedition, as  the  soldiers  did  not  like  chasing  Indians  in 
all  kinds  of  weather.  At  the  time  of  grandfather's  death 
a  soldier  was  suspected,  arrested  and  placed  in  the  guard- 
house, but  he  escaped  before  his  trial  and  Whittemore  was 
suspected  of  helping  him  to  get  out  of  the  country,  as 
the  prisoner  escaped  and  was  never  heard  from  again. 


160  DOUBLING    BACK 

I  was  in  and  out  of  the  country  of  Modoc  a  number 
of  times  from  1901  to  1910.  It  is  a  lucky  thing  for  Whit- 
temore  that  I  did  not  make  these  discoveries  before  he  died 
in  1908,  and  lucky  for  his  heirs  that  I  did  not  discover 
it  before  the  estate  was  settled.  It  will  also  be  lucky  for 
me  and  mine  if  the  lawyer  succeeds  in  securing  anything 
out  of  it  for  the  rightful  heirs. 


THE  BIJOU  AT  WALLA  WALLA 

It  required  persuasive  powers,  sweet  oil,  perseverance 
and  hard  work  to  secure  and  hold  a  theatrical  stock  en- 
gagement at  the  Bijou  theatre,  in  Walla  Walla. 

After  closing  our  summer  tour  at  Condon,  we  took  a 
short  vacation.  Miss  lies,  Joe  Thompson  and  I  went  to 
Walla  Walla.  The  balance  of  the  company  went  to  Port- 
land to  do  a  little  painting,  visiting  and  shopping. 

I  called  upon  the  manager,  A.  Wesley  Eiler,  of  the 
Bijou,  and  made  him  a  proposition  to  put  in  a  dramatic 
stock  in  his  theatre  for  a  few  weeks.  He  nearly  took  my 
head  off.  But  he  showed  us  over  his  house  and  explained 
that  when  he  opened  the  theatre,  he  engaged  a  stock  com- 
pany and  guaranteed  them  seven  hundred  and  fifty  dol- 
lars for  one  week.  They  gave  such  a  poor  show  that  he 
paid  them  before  the  week  was  out  and  closed  them.  He 
had  then  turned  the  house  into  "movies"  and  further 
announced  that  nothing  could  induce  him  to  change.  I 
talked  to  him  for  two  days  and  half  of  one  night.  I  finally 


A    SUCCESSFUL    STOCK    CO. 


DOUBLINa    BACK  161 

discovered  that  the  stock  company  which  he  had  engaged 
to  open  his  new  theatre  was  a  musical  comedy-hitch-up- 
quick-trick  that  some  crooked  agent  in  Seattle  got  together 
for  the  occasion,  in  order  to  fleece  Mr.  Eiler,  which  he  did 
successfully. 

I  could  do  nothing  to  convince  him  that  I  had  a  good 
show,  so  after  making  him  several  propositions,  I  went  to 
Baker  City,  Oregon;  made  a  contract  with  the  manager 
there,  wired  our  members  of  the  company  and  opened  for 
two  weeks.  At  the  end  of  the  first  week  I  received  a  letter 
from  Manager  Eiler  containing  the  following  proposition : 

"Will  pay  you  one  week  on  a  fifty-fifty  basis,  provid- 
ing you  change  the  bill  every  day,  play  a  matinee  on 
Wednesday,  Saturday  and  Sunday,  and  give  two  per- 
formances on  Saturday  night  and  two  on  Sunday  night, 
at  seven  and  nine  o  'clock. ' '  I  accepted  and  wired  him  that 
we  would  come,  and  shipped  paper. 

Seven  members  of  the  Margaret  lies  company  had  been 
together  at  this  time  for  five  years  and  were  up  in  a  reper- 
toire of  over  one  hundred  days.  Josephine  Thorn,  aged 
ten,  had  been  with  us  about  two  years  and  played  child 
parts  in  a  number  of  plays  with  excellence. 

We  opened  in  "An  American  Girl."  Margaret  lies, 
Little  Josephine  and  the  entire  company  scored  a  hit  and 
we  became  great  favorites  from  the  first  scene.  We  were 
obliged  to  give  two  performances  of  "Little  Lord  Faunt- 
leroy"  on  Saturday  afternoon  to  accommodate  the  chil- 
dren who  came  to  see  the  child  actress,  Jo  Thorn,  in  the 
title  role.  We  turned  people  away  at  nearly  every  per- 
formance. This  continued  during  our  stay  at  the  theatre 


162  DOUBLING    BACK 

and  after  the  first  week  we  put  on  three  plays  a  week  and 
gave  twelve  shows  until  we  exhausted  our  repertoire  and 
ourselves.  We  had  made  a  great  many  friends  and  some 
money. 


1911. 

We  all  needed  a  rest  so  in  the  spring,  1911,  we  played 
week  stands  at  Pomeroy,  Dayton  and  Lewiston.  Then 
went  into  stock — two  bills  a  week — at  Everett,  Washing- 
ton. The  theatre  here  was  too  good,  the  manager  too  bad, 
the  public  too  poor,  so  after  trying  it  for  two  weeks  we 
jumped  to  Marshfield,  Oregon,  where  we  played  a  success- 
ful Fourth  of  July  week  under  the  management  of  Vince 
Pratt.  We  then  opened  a  new  opera  house  at  Bandon,  and 
went  down  the  coast  to  Crescent  City,  automobiled  to 
Grant's  Pass,  went  to  Yreka  by  rail,  motored  through 
Scott's  Valley,  California,  and  after  touring  the  Klamath, 
Modoc  and  Lakeview  Counties,  we  automobiled  via  South- 
stone  Brothers  from  Lakeview  to  Prineville  without  a  mis- 
hap. Here  we  played  the  fair  date  once  more  to  big  busi- 
ness. Margaret  lies  now  departed  for  New  York  and 
Chicago  for  the  purpose  of  study,  which  she  had  long  been 
intending  to  do.  She  remained  there  until  April,  1912. 
In  the  meantime  I  sold  all  our  manuscripts,  scenery  and 
props  to  Messrs.  Howe  and  Thompson,  who  took  the  show 
without  me  to  Bellingham,  Washington,  for  stock.  I  went 
to  Walla  Walla  for  a  long  rest  from  the  worries  of  direct- 
ing plays,  building  stages,  putting  up  scenery,  getting 


DOUBLING    BACK  163 

props,  learning  new  parts,  riding  over  mountains,  billing 
towns,  making  out  routes,  breaking  in  new  actors,  taking 
tickets,  paying  bills,  and  all  the  trials  and  tribulations 
of  a  "Rep/'  show  manager. 


1912 

I  could  not  rest;  my  nerves  were  shattered.  I  tried 
to  sell  insurance  and  real  estate,  but  without  success.  I 
perfected  my  invention  that  I  had  dreamed  of  and  played 
parts  with  the  stock  company  that  was  playing  at  the 
Bijou.  ffl 

In  April  Miss  lies  returned  from  New  York  and  we 
reorganized  with  part  of  the  old  company  which  had 
failed  under  the  management  of  Thompson  and  Howe.  We 
opened  for  six  weeks  at  the  Bijou  with  our  old  friend,  A. 
"Wesley  Eiler.  Then  railed  to  Prairie  City,  Oregon,  staged 
to  Burns  and  liveried  to  Paisley.  From  Paisley  we  auto- 
mobiled  to  Lakeview.  The  new  leading  man  (Harrington) 
was  all  right,  but  his  wife  got  on  my  nerves.  The  show 
was  not  up  to  snuff  and  that  jogged  my  nerves  too.  Busi- 
ness was  pretty  fair,  however,  and  that  helped  some.  The 
new  people  refused  to  ride  three  in  a  seat,  so  I  sat  them 
and  their  baggage  out  upon  the  sidewalk  and  left  them 
there.  We  played  rotation  stock  from  Lakeview  to  Alturas 
via  Modoc  County  and  Surprise  Valley.  We  traveled  with 
automobiles  that  we  purchased  from  my  old  friend, 
Charley  Lamb,  at  Cedarville.  The  machines  were  always 
breaking  down,  which  did  not  help  to  quiet  my  nerves.  We 


164  DOUBLING    BACK 

returned  to  Paisley  and  after  playing  a  big  Fourth  of 
July  three-day  celebration  we  started  for  the  coast  via 
Klamath.  We  engaged  a  driver  who  thought  he  could  act, 
but  he  could  not  even  drive  a  car  let  alone  act.  While 
climbing  the  first  mountain,  after  leaving  Klamath,  I  sat 
on  the  running  board  and  held  a  large  rock  in  my  lap. 
Every  few  minutes  the  car  would  stop,  and  in  order  to 
prevent  it  from  backing  over  the  grade  I  would  place  the 
rock  behind  the  wheel,  because  the  driver  could  not  handle 
the  clutch,  wheel  and  brake  at  the  same  time.  At  the  top; 
of  Ashland  mountain  something  went  wrong  with  the 
transmission  case.  When  Ralph  Southstone,  our  own 
chauffeur,  took  the  wheel  and  opened  the  throttle,  the  case 
went  to  pieces  and  the  oil  was  spilled  upon  the  ground. 
Just  then  a  severe  pain  penetrated  the  back  of  my  head 
and  continued  with  every  beat  of  my  heart  for  about  six 
weeks. 

We  laid  over  a  few  days  at  Ashland,  hired  a  man 
and  team  to  haul  our  machine  from  the  top  of  the  moun- 
tain and  wired  for  repairs.  After  engaging  passage  for 
five  people  on  the  auto-stage  from  Grants  Pass  to  Cres- 
cent City,  we  proceeded  on  our  way.  All  the  time  I  was 
suffering  with  those  awful  pains  in  the  back  of  my  head 
and  doing  everything  to  relieve  them,  from  Chiropractic, 
Osteopathy  and  medicine  to  all  the  old  woman  headache 
cures  that  we  had  ever  heard  of.  We  quit  trying  to  give 
a  show  and  went  down  the  coast  to  the  mouth  of  the 
Klamath  River  and  camped  out,  while  I  did  nothing  but 
rest.  I  had  never  been  troubled  with  headache  since  I  was 
a  child,  at  the  time  my  hair  turned  white.  Finally  my 


DOUBLING    BACK  165 

sister,  who  had  been  with  me,  together  with  her  three  chil- 
dren, almost  continually  since  1903,  became  alarmed.  She 
and  Miss  lies  insisted  that  I  go  by  boat  from  Crescent 
City  to  San  Francisco  and  consult  with  the  famous  special- 
ist, Dr.  J.  C.  Anthony,  who  had  been  my  schoolmate  in 
Hancock,  Michigan.  I  made  a  flying  trip  by  machine  from 
Eequa,  California,  and  took  the  steamer  Del  Norte  from 
Crescent  City.  When  I  arrived  at  the  doctor's  residence 
in  San  Francisco  he  found  my  nerves  and  blood  in  very 
bad  condition,  but  said  that  I  would  be  all  right  with  rest 
and  treatment,  so  I  began  a  treatment  for  blood  and  nerves. 
I  felt  well  with  the  exception  of  the  terrible  headaches. 
My  nephew,  Paul  Harvey,  and  his  wife,  were  visiting  his 
wife's  family  in  Oakland.  They  telephoned  me  to  come 
and  see  them.  I  crossed  the  bay  at  noon  on  the  9th  day 
of  August  and  met  Paul  at  his  father-in-law's  bank.  While 
walking  with  him  I  had  a  paralytic  stroke  and  he  laid  me 
out  on  a  drygoods  box  and  sent  for  a  doctor.  After  about 
twenty  minutes  I  fully  recovered  and  went  with  him  to 
his  home.  Later,  while  laughing  and  joking  with  Paul 
and  his  wife,  I  was  stricken  with  a  cerebral  hemorrhage. 
Dr.  Anthony  was  notified,  also  my  home  lodge  of  Elks,  as 
well  as  all  my  relatives.  The  Elks  wired  to  No.  171  of 
Oakland  to  take  care  of  me.  I  was  taken  to  Fabiola  Hos- 
pital and  for  three  days  I  thought  every  minute  would  be 
my  last.  I  had  no  fear  but  placed  my  faith  in  God  and 
his  servants.  I  was  removed  to  Dr.  Anthony's  private 
residence  in  San  Francisco  at  the  end  of  twenty-one  days, 
and  after  fourteen  weeks  was  able  to  walk  with  the  aid 
of  a  cane. 


11 


166  DOUBLING    BACK 

The  Margaret  lies  company  closed  and  my  beloved  sis- 
ter came  to  me.  We  resided  in  Oakland  for  a  few  months 
while  I  received  two  hyperimic  treatments  a  week  for 
paralysis  from  Dr.  Anthony. 

The  following  is  quoted  from  the  San  Francisco  Post, 
October,  1913: 


PHYSICIAN    CURES    PARALYSIS   BY   STARVING 
PATIENT 

TOTAL  ABSTINENCE  FROM  FOOD  FOR  THIRTY-ONE  DAYS  SUCCESS- 
FULLY OVERCOMES  DREAD  MALADY 

Man  Given  Up,  Now  Able  to  Walk  and  Eat.  Dr.  J.  C.  Anthony 
Demonstrates  His  Work  to  the  Doctors  Throughout  State 
Total  abstinence  from  food  as  a  cure  for  paralysis  has  been 
demonstrated  to  the  satisfaction  of  physicians  of  this  state  in 
the  case  of  Edwards  Meade  of  Marshfield,  Oregon.  Six  weeks 
ago  Meade,  who  was  visiting  in  San  Francisco,  suffered  com- 
plete paralysis  following  two  strokes,  his  respiration  only  being 
unimpaired.  Today  he  has  recovered  the  complete  use  of  his 
left  side,  can  use  his  eyes,  can  speak  practically  as  well  as  usual 
and  has  so  far  recovered  the  use  of  his  right  side  so  as  to  be 
able  to  walk. 

Meade  has  been  under  the  care  of  Dr.  J.  C.  Anthony,  of 
1901  Post  street.  Dr.  Anthony,  who  has  successfully  tried  his 
treatment  on  eleven  other  cases,  believes  that  abstinence  from 
food  is  the  only  way  of  successfully  combating  hemorrhage  of 
the  brain,  which  causes  paralysis.  Meade  is  enthusiastic  about 
the  success  of  the  treatment. 


DOUBLING    BACK  167 


STARTS  STARVATION  CURE 

Immediately  after  his  paralytic  strokes  the  patient  was  taken 
to  Fabiola  hospital  in  Oakland.  As  he  and  Dr.  Anthony  had 
been  friends  in  boyhood,  and  as  he  had  already  taken  several 
treatments  from  Dr.  Anthony  for  the  purpose  of  relieving  head- 
aches, that  physician  was  sent  for  immediately.  He  ordered 
total  abstinence  from  food,  the  theory  being  that  if  the  body 
is  overtaxed  with  the  effort  of  eating  and  digesting  food,  it  will 
be  retarded  in  the  absorption  of  the  clot  of  blood  that  causes 
the  paralysis. 

At  the  time  Meade  was  taken  to  the  hospital  practically  no 
hope  of  his  recovery  was  held  by  any  one  who  saw  him.  For 
twenty-three  days  he  was  kept  absolutely  without  food,  the  treat- 
ment during  that  time  consisting  mainly  of  packing  the  body 
in  cold  compresses  and  bathing.  The  improvement  began  to 
show  about  the  sixth  day,  when  some  life  returned  to  the  left 
hand. 

On  the  twenty-third  day  the  patient  was  given  a  little  malted 
milk— six  ounces  in  the  morning  and  six  at  night — and  that  con- 
tinued for  two  days,  when  he  was  again  left  without  food  until 
the  twenty-eighth  day  after  his  illness.  Then  he  was  again  given 
malted  milk  and  a  little  watermelon.  It  was  not  until  the  thirty- 
first  day  that  he  tasted  any  solid  food,  a  small  piece  of  bread 
having  been  added  that  day  to  his  diet. 

BREAD  Is  FIRST  SOLID  FOOD 

"That  piece  of  bread  was  the  finest  thing  I  ever  tasted," 
Meade  said  yesterday.  "It  took  me  half  an  hour  to  eat  it,  but 
I  never  enjoyed  any  food  more  in  my  life.  However,  I  must 
say  that  during  the  days  of  fasting  I  did  not  miss  food.  Even 


168  DOUBLING    BACK 

had  I  wanted  to  eat  I  would  not  have  been  able  to  do  so,  as 
the  muscles  of  my  throat  were  so  paralyzed  as  to  prevent  me 
from  swallowing  anything. 

"I  am  now  getting  back  to  a  normal  way  of  eating  as  I 
regain  my  strength,  and  when  I  leave  San  Francisco  next  week, 
I  expect  to  be  well  enough  to  travel  alone,  and  eventually  will 
regain  my  lost  strength." 

Meade's  diet  now  consists  mostly  of  fruits,  vegetables  and 
cereals.  He  eats  nothing  before  ten  o'clock,  and  then  takes  a 
normal  breakfast.  During  the  past  few  days  he  has  walked 
around  his  room  and  is  able  to  read  with  perfect  ease. 

Meade  is  a  theatrical  man.  His  nephew,  Paul  Harvey,  also 
is  an  actor,  having  played  last  year  with  Virginia  Harned.  He 
is  at  present  in  Sacramento. 


"BACK  TO  COOS" 

On  the  twenty-third  day  of  June,  1913,  I  sailed  with 
my  sister  for  Coos  County,  Oregon.  My  old  friend  of  early 
Michigan  days,  Herbert  Armstrong,  had  located  in  that 
county.  He  leased  me  a  hundred  and  twenty  acres  of 
logged  off  and  burned  over  land  and  built  me  a  small 
liouse.  That  is  where  I  am  living  at  this  writing,  July, 
1914. 

My  beloved  sister  is  with  me  and  when  I  stroll  out  in 
the  brush,  fall  down  and  get  tangled  up,  I  blow  a  police 
whistle  and  she  comes  to  my  assistance.  We  live  among 
the  myrtles,  firs,  poison  oak  and  wild  blackberry  vines. 
The  spring  brook,  chickens  and  garden  supply  water  and 
food.  When  the  sun  shines  I  am  contented  and  happy; 


DOUBLING    BACK  169 

especially  while  "Doubling  Back"  in  memory  o'er  the  trail 
of  life  and  typewriting  these  incidents,  grinding  out  verse, 
listening  to  the  wild  birds,  babbling  brooks  and  viewing 
the  beautiful  green  valley  that  stretches  away  toward  the 
flowing  Coquille  River,  which  winds  itself  out  into  the 
Pacific  Ocean,  twenty-five  miles  away. 

June  17,  1914  (Bunker  Hill  Day),  and  I  look  like  a 
rancher,  and  while  writing  these  lines  I  have  been  greatly 
entertained,  at  times,  with  Aason  Brothers'  logging  crew, 
while  the  ' '  Shrieking  Donkey ' '  jarred  my  nerves  and  upset 
my  equilibrium  quite  frequently.  However,  on  the  whole, 
all  has  afforded  the  old  sport,  who  is  still  trudging  along 
the  trail,  looking  for  nuggets  and  sunshine,  a  great  deal 
of  joy. 


AFTER  FIFTY  YEARS 

Fifty  years  I  have  doubled  back, 

My  recollection  is  still  intact 

Of  a  rough  trail  here,  a  smooth  one  there, 

Roses  and  briars  everywhere; 

One  day  mixed  in  a  school  boy's  fight, 

Where  I  licked  a  kid  with  all  my  might; 

The  next  day  licked  by  my  angry  dad, 

Which  made  me  feel  both  sore  and  sad. 

So  the  years  rolled  on  with  breakneck  speed, 

While  I  roamed  the  country — I  did  indeed, 

Had  a  grand  good  time  as  good  times  go, 

For  I  gave  my  friends  a  first  class  show. 

I  was  praised,  applauded,  laughed  at,  cheered, 

Liked  and  loved,  but  never  feared. 


170  DOUBLING    BACK 

All  in  all  on  this  trail  of  mine, 
I  had  a  perfectly  corking  time. 

Over  prairies  to  Atlantic's  shore, 

Over  mountains  to  Pacific's  roar, 

From  Mexico  to  Hudson's  Bay, 

I  traveled  the  trail  from  day  unto  day. 

On  land  or  on  sea  or  in  mountains  grand 

God  held  me  always  within  his  hand. 

Crippled  and  broken— but  living  still — 

I  work  with  one  finger  the  typewriter  quill. 

I'm  keeping  right  on  at  the  same  old  pace, 

Not  making  much  time,  but  still  in  the  race; 

Happy,  contented,  where  there  is  something  to  do 

To  keep  my  mind  busy  so  I  cannot  get  blue, 

I  slide  along  gently  this  old  trail  of  mine, 

And  think  I  am  having  a  corking  good  time. 

The  little  logged  off  ranch,  near  Coquille,  was  too  lonely 
for  the  old  sport.  I  could  not  work  at  clearing  land. 
Chickens  also  refused  to  work  on  short  rations.  I  could 
not  be  feeding  them  all  the  time,  and,  although  my  brain 
said  ' '  go  to  work, ' '  my  legs  and  arms  would  get  the  crimps 
and  refuse.  One  morning  I  grabbed  a  handful  of  nerves 
from  somewhere  in  my  anatomy,  put  on  a  boiled  shirt  and 
walked  into  town,  a  distance  of  two  miles,  in  one  hour  and 
forty  minutes.  I  saw  a  lawyer,  who  was  a  brother  Elk. 
He  read  this  manuscript,  which  I  had  been  amusing  my- 
self by  writing  for  nearly  a  year,  and  I  believe  advised 
well  when  he  told  me  to  have  it  published  as  my  autobiog- 
raphy. So  I  borrowed  four  dollars  from  my  sister  Nellie 
and  started  for  Marshfield,  where,  upon  the  shores  of  Old 
Coos  Bay,  there  roams  a  noble  band  of  Elks. 


DOUBLING    BACK  171 


"HELLO!    BILL!"  OF  OLD  COOS  BAY 

(Apologies  to  Mr.  Kipling) 
By  Edwards  H.  Meade 

Marshfield  Lodge,  "1160,"  Benevolent,  Protective  Order  of  Elks, 
Through  the  efforts  of  some  old  bucks,  quite  a  noble  band  of  Celts, 
Was  instituted  in  that  City,  19-10,  and  they  say: 
Come  you  back,  you  Yankee  brother;  come  you  back  to  Oldcoos- 
bay— 

Come  you  back  to  Oldcoosbay, 
Where  the  B.  P.  0.  E.'s  play; 
I  could  hear  their  voices  calling 
From  my  bed  at  Frisco  Bay— 
Hellow,  Bills,  of  Oldcoosbay, 
Where  the  B.  P.  0.  E.'s  play, 
And  the  sun  comes  up  in  splendor 
From  the  mountains  'cross  the  bay. 

My  business  was  0.  K.  and  the  little  show  serene, 

Riding  in  our  automobiles  just  the  same  as  any  queen, 

But  the  old  machines  were  bucking  and  my  nerves  were  bad  to 

boot, 

And  my  system  needed  treatment  so  to  'Frisco  I  did  scoot— 
Blooming  pains  were  in  my  head, 
Doctor's  diagnosis  said: 
Treatment  for  the  nerves  was  needed, 
While  my  blood  was  none  too  red — 
Hello,  Bill,  of  Oldcoosbay, 
Where  the  B.  P.  0.  E.'s  play, 
All  the  Bills  from  o'er  the  county, 
Always  stand  in  on  each  fray. 


172  DOUBLING    BACK 

While  in  Oakland  and  was  calling  on  the  folks  at  "Mussy's" 

home, 

I  was  stricken  with  paralysis  that  surely  knocked  me  prone— 
To  the  hospital  they  took  me  and  I  thought  my  days  were  o'er. 
The  doctor  and  the  nurses  made  me  sweat  from  ev'ry  pore; 
Muscles  dead,  I  could  not  speak, 
Money  going  ev'ry  week; 
But  the  Bills  o'  'leven  sixty, 
Were  the  elephants  with  teak — 
Hello,  Bill,  of  Oldcoosbay, 
Where  the  B.  P.  0.  E.'s  play, 
Jolly  Bills  from  o'er  the  Nation 
Often  visit  Oldcoosbay. 

Now  that's  all  away  behind  me— long  ago  and  far  away, 
And  there's  no  use  of  my  growling,  I  have  come  to  Coos  to  stay, 
But  I'm  living  near  Coquille,  where  the  fir  and  myrtle  dwells; 
My  health  it  is  improving— I  don't  need  for  anything  else- 
No,  I  don't  need  for  anything  else— 
Don't  have  melancholy  spells — 
And  there's  one  grand  word  explains  it — 
"Grat-i-tude"— ring  out  the  bells- 
Hello,  Bill,  of  Oldcoosbay, 
You  ne'er  failed  with  that  bouquet, 
It  came  regular,  and  cheered  me, 
Also  "Threes"  of  Frisco  Bay. 

I  am  sick  of  earning  nothing  round  these  rolling,  wooded  hills, 
And  am  now  engaged  in  writing  up  some  "Memories"  spite  of 

ills, 

And  I  hope  to  sell  some  stories  to  the  "Post"  or  to  the  "Strand," 
I  want  to  do  some  reimbursing— all  good  Bills  will  understand. 
"Beat  it  back"— that  sounds  real  grand, 


DOUBLING    BACK  173 

A  full  grown  buck  must  have  some  sand — 

I've  a  reasoned,  seasoned  notion 

That  I  will  "Come  Back"  and  land- 
Brother  Bills,  of  Oldcoosbay, 
May  advise  "don't  get  too  gay, 
"But  come  back  and  be  a  brother;" 
So,  Hello!    Bill!    of  Oldcoosbay. 

To  go  somewhere  on  a  visit  where  I'd  see  I'm  not  the  worst, 
Where  there  are  no    shrieking    donkeys    and    I    could    always- 

quench  my  thirst; 

I  know  the  boys  have  all  been  wishing  for  a  full  recovery, 
And  they've  aided  more  than  any  one  of  them  can  see. 
Nearly  gone  at  'Frisco  Bay, 
Brother  Bills  helped  me  to  stay, 
And  the  Infinite  will  bless  them— 
'Leven  Sixty,  of  Oldcoosbay. 
Hello,  Bill,  of  Oldcoosbay, 
Where  the  B.  P.  0.  E.'s  play, 
May  good  fortune  smile  forever 
On  "HELLO  BILLS"  OF  OLDCOOSBAY. 

"MARSHFIELD,  OREGON,  June  4,  1914. 
BROTHER  E.  H.  MEADE, 

Coquille,  Oregon. 
Dear  Sir  and  Brother: 

I  take  pleasure  in  informing  you  that  this  lodge  has  granted 
with  pleasure  your  request  to  publish  in  your  book  of  memories 
the  poem  which  you  sent  for  our  approval. 

It  is  a  fine  poem  and  has  been  read  by  a  number  of  the 
brothers  with  pleasure,  and  I  trust  that  you  will  meet  with  ft 
good  sale  of  your  book. 


174  DOUBLING    BACK 

The  best  wishes  of  Marshfield  Lodge  No.  1160  are  tendered 
along  with  this  letter. 

Yours  fraternally, 

THOMAS  B.  JAMES, 

Secretary. 

I  arrived  safely  in  Marshfield,  Oregon,  after  a  twenty 
mile  ride  upon  the  steam  cars,  on  October  1,  1914.  The 
boys  and  acquaintances  of  my  show  actor  days  all  re- 
ceived me  with  a  very  glad  hand  and  I  could  feel  the 
melancholia  begin  to  squirm.  I  began  to  poke  him  un- 
mercifully, day  and  night.  I  planned  and  talked  with 
every  one  with  whom  I  had  ever  been  acquainted.  All  the 
time  I  was  afraid  that  I  was  becoming  an  awful  boor;  but 
I  persevered  and  finally  I  found  myself  the  proprietor  of 
a  small  candy  and  cigar  store  which  I  named  the  "Kandy 
Nook."  I  was  as  proud  as  John  Wanamaker  and  while 
the  little  store  kept  me  busy,  at  times,  I  occupied  all  my 
spare  moments  in  planning  for  the  future  and  how  I  could 
succeed  in  getting  this  little  volume  published.  I  finally 
forwarded  the  manuscript  to  a  publishing  house  in  San 
Francisco.  They  kept  it  three  months  before  they  made 
me  a  proposition.  I  became  enthused,  got  a  circular  and 
mailed  one  to  every  person  that  I  could  think  of.  The 
letters,  advertisements,  write-ups  and  orders  for  books 
from  all  parts  of  the  country  kept  me  enthused.  They 
entertained  me,  and  filled  me  with  hope.  They  also  fur- 
nished me  with  many  a  good  laugh  and  caused  a  few  tears, 
which  were  mostly  for  joy.  The  melancholic  spells  disap- 
peared and  I  blossomed  out  with  an  old  time  smile.  I 
received  a  letter  from  Jule  Hummel,  the  man  who  did  not 


DOUBLING    BACK  175 

want  me  to  marry  his  daughter  (lone).  God  bless  him. 
He  is  a  jolly  old  man  over  seventy  and  I  hope  I  will  have 
the  pleasure  of  seeing  him  and  asking  his  forgiveness  for 
any  bad  thoughts  that  I  might  have  had  about  him  some 
thirty  years  ago.  About  this  time  I  received  a  letter  from 
my  wife,  Georgie  Van  Gordon  Meade,  whom  you  may  re- 
call went  home  on  a  visit  in  1899  to  Dunkirk,  New  York, 
and  whom  I  had  not  heard  from  in  fifteen  years.  We  had 
drifted  apart  and  lost  each  other 's  address.  I  made  up 
my  mind  that  she  must  have  seen  my  advertisement  in  the 
"Billboard"  or  else  visited  the  Hall  of  Fame  and  saw  my 
name  on  a  three  sheet.  She  wrote  me  a  letter  anyway,  and 
I  answered  it  cheerfully,  without  love,  sentiment  or  for- 
giveness. I  have  tried  all  my  life  to  get  my  name  on  a 
three  sheet  before  the  public,  as  an  actor  and,  although 
paralysis  knocked  me  out  of  the  show  business,  I  am  still 
trying  to  get  my  name  and  my  face  on  a  three  sheet. 


IS  YOUR  NAME  ON  A  THREE  SHEET? 

Is  your  name  on  a  three  sheet, 

Up  in  the  hall  of  fame? 
Just  look  the  billboards  over, 

Read  each  and  every  name; 
Perhaps  they  overlooked  you, 

And  it's  the  bill  boy's  fault; 
He  left  you  in  the  bill  room, 

Down  in  that  old  stone  vault. 

There's  Christopher  Columbus, 
Americo  Vespucci, 


176  DOUBLING    BACK 

Italians,  French  and  English, 

Patti,  and  Caruso. 
John  Smith  and  Pocahontas, 

Washington,  Jefferson, 
Some  white  and  colored  pugilists, 

And  inventor  Tom  Edison. 

There's  a  three  sheet  of  Lincoln, 

And  humorist  Mark  Twain; 
Another  of  Theodore, 

And  the  atheist,  Paine. 
You'll  find   all  the   presidents, 

And   the   plumed   knight   Jim   Elaine; 
Reverend  T.  Dewitt  Talmage 

And  George  Francis  Train. 

There  are  three  sheets  and  lithos 

Of  men  loved  and  hated, 
And  of  statesmen  and  soldiers, 

Since  the  world  was  created; 
Musicians,  actors,  artists; 

Men  who  fly  through  the  air, 
Yet  the  great  hall  of  fame 

Has  some  billboards  to  spare. 

Man,  get  your  name  and  your  face 

On  a  three  sheet  to  stay. 
Be  a  live  one  of  some  kind, 

Jump  right  into  the  fray; 
Make  the  big  chief  bill  poster, 

Know  that  you  are  "some  drop/' 
Get  your  face  on  a  three  sheet, 

With  your  name  on  the  top. 


DOUBLING    BACK  177 

The  little  candy  shop,  the  letters  from  friends  and 
schoolmates  of  forty  years  ago,  the  encouragement  from  all 
who  know  me  have  succeeded  in  nearly  driving  all  signs 
of  melancholia  to  the  four  winds  of  Heaven,  and  at  this 
moment,  10:13  a.  m.,  September  13,  1915,  I  am  full  of 
enthusiasm,  hope,  courage,  kindliness  and  gratitude.  In 
spite  of  the  fact  that  my  "Kandy  Nook"  went  into  the 
hands  of  a  receiver  (two  creditors  confiscated  most  of  the 
goods  and  laid  themselves  liable  to  the  penitentiary),  I  am 
very  happy  and  have  enough  pleasant  thoughts  in  my  right 
brain,  if  formed  into  sentences  with  my  left  hand,  would 
entitle  the  old  sport  to  a  reception,  when  he  crosses  to  the 
other  shore. 


THE  OLD  SPORTS'  RECEPTION 
(At  the  Elks'  Heavenly  Home) 

Well!   By  thunder! 
What's  your  number? 

Hello!    Bill!    Where  from,  my  old  sport? 
I'm  the  picket, 
Where's  your  ticket? 

It  requires  a  "comp."  to  see  this  court. 
What's  that  you  say? 
Willing  to  pay? 

Don't  want  to  be  an  exception? 
Well,  now,  look  here, 
My  white  haired  dear; 

This  is  an  Old  Sports'  Reception— 


178  DOUBLING    BACK 

For  all  old  sports  who  have  tried  to  be  sincere, 

Who  never  with  intent  have  caused  a  tear; 

Who  were  always  real  kind  to  the  sick  and  the  blind, 

And  would  never  sanction  deception; 

Tonight  they  are  all  to  be  rewarded, 

Their  names  in  gold  will  be  recorded; 

So,  move  on,  old  gent,  we  are  quite  intent, 

Upon  giving  the  old  sports  this  reception. 

Old  gent  replied: 
"Kind  sir,  I've  tried 

Since  the  Creator  gave  me  life, 
To  be  civil 
To  the  divil, 

And  will  not  enter  into  strife; 
Pll  pass  along 
And  sing  my  song, 

I  know  that  I  am  not  perfection; 
Yet,  Peter  said: 
"Go  right  ahead 

To  where  it  reads  'Old  Sports'  Reception/" 

The  picket  quickly  moved  the  golden  glimmer, 
It's  glare  fell  full  upon  the  aged  sinner. 
He  said:   What's  your  name?    Are  you  walking  lame? 
I  beg  your  pardon.     You  need  protection. 
Come  in— put  on  this  crown  and  purple  cloak- 
Have  a  drink  o'  nectar— you're  about  to  choke- 
Never  mind  your  name,  I  know  you  are  game; 
Welcome,  Bill,  to  the  Old  Sports'  Reception. 

WTiile  sitting  here  in  my  little  room,  thinking  of  all  the 
blessings  that  have  been  bestowed  upon  me  and  all  of  the 


DOUBLING    BACK  179 

happiness  and  pleasure  that  I  have  experienced  in  fifty- 
two  years,  I  begin  to  imagine  that  I  have  really  lived  one 
hundred  and  fifty-two  years.  When  I  compare  my  trail 
of  life  with  a  great  many  men,  whom  I  know  are  three 
score  and  ten,  I  believe  that  some  good  spirit  hath  always 
been  hovering  near.  Maybe  it  is  that  of  my  grandfather's, 
the  good  old  Quaker,  directed  by  Providence.  Perhaps  He 
is  preserving  me  so  that  I  may  right  the  wrongs  of  Daniel 
Hoag,  so  that  all  his  grandchildren  may  come  into  their 
own.  It  is  my  great  desire  to  win  a  crown  upon  this  earth 
and  when  my  soul  passes  to  the  great  beyond,  I  hope  to 
appear  as  an  actor  upon  the  platform  at  "The  Old  Sports' 
Reception,"  and  upon  that  occasion  I  will  thank  God  for 
all  his  goodness  to  all  mankind,  and  sing 


A  SONG  FOR  THE  ELKS 

In  the  forests  on  the  mountains, 

O'er  this  grand  old  U.  S.  A., 
Great  bands  of  Elk,  in  years  gone  by, 

Roamed  as  monarchs  of  the  day. 
The  cities  now,  through  God's  decree, 

Contain  a  mighty  throng 
Of  Elk,  who  are  B.  P.  0.  E.; 

Their  soul  in  work  or  song. 

The  jovial  boys  of  Elkdom, 

Descend  from  the  "Noble  Few;" 

They  work  and  play,  cheer  all  mankind, 
And  fight  for  th'  Red,  White  an'  Blue. 


180  DOUBLING    BACK 

All  baby  Elks  that  come  to  earth, 

By  way  of  "Fairy  Storks," 
Will  love  their  own  B.  P.  0.  E., 

And  reverence  "Jolly  Corks." 

The  song  of  the  Elks  is  a  song  of  the  soul, 

To  be  sung  when  our  Ruler  calls  the  last  roll. 

'Twill  reveal  all  their  virtues  and  famous  "high  jinks," 

That  were  always  amusing— and  inethinks, 

The  home  of  the  Elks,  up  in  Heaven,  will  be 

Crowned  with  "Old  Glory"  around  B.  P.  0.  E. 

And,  while  angels  are  singing  o'  Peace  and  Good  Will, 

Our  song  will  be  echo-ing,  Hello!  Bill! 


I  am  ready  for  the  press — June  17,  1916. 

EDWARDS  HOAG  MEADE. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


INTER-LIBRARY 


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